Denouement: The 1000th Hunger Games
by cjborange
Summary: Denouement (noun): The final part of a literary work, in which final strands of its plot are drawn together. After a millennium of the annual Hunger Games, President Hazel decides to end the ancient tradition with an epic final death game: 24 tributes will be reaped from every district. The odds will not be in the favor of 287 tributes, as only one will arise victorious.
1. Introduction

**A/N: Welcome one and welcome all! As soon as 23 Cannons came to its conclusion, I knew I wanted to start up another long-term story. And here it is: the final Hunger Games, where twenty-four tributes are reaped from each district, made to fight in multiple tiers until a single victor emerges. This is just the prologue: the first reaping will be next chapter. The quarter quell card implies that there will be thirteen Hunger Games with twenty-four tributes each, but this president has taken the liberty of switching things up a little bit. You'll see what I mean ;) I hope you enjoy, and please consider reviewing on your favorite chapters :D**

* * *

How do you get something from nothing? Not easily, it would seem.

The small group of humans to have survived the Great Disaster faced seemingly impossible odds. Rebuilding society to a recognizable extent was not an easy task, but mankind always finds his way. In the blink of an eye, Panem was formed: a sparkling Capitol surrounded by thirteen districts, towering over the ruins of North America.

With time, however, the extremely privileged ruling class began to grow corrupt, and the nation's common people were taxed for their insubordination after their great rebellion was beaten down. Each year, twenty-three of their children would be taken from them. Only once they had truly accepted the power of the Capitol over their lives would the crimes of their ancestors be forgiven.

One-thousand years have passed since then. Those that lived to see the emergence of the first Hunger Games victor are now far beneath the ground. So many generations have been turned over and discarded, while time has raced past like words written on a spinning wheel.

Determined that they would not let the memory of the rebellion fade with time, the framers of the Hunger Games instituted the Quarter Quell system, by which a devious twist would be introduced to the games once every twenty-five years. By doing so, the terror of the Capitol's rule was kept extremely fresh for each new generation.

As the old saying goes, times change. The Hunger Games have embedded themselves into the minds of Panem's citizens so deeply that the annual death of twenty-three children is just as much a part of the country as the twelve districts. Now, the games are all but obsolete: rebellion is at lower rates than ever before, training academies have been established in all twelve districts, and virtually the entire nation sees the games as little more than entertainment. President Hazel determines to end the games with an explosive finale, and the twist he unleashed onto the one-thousandth and final Hunger Games is certainly one not only for the times, but the ages.

Twenty-four tributes will be reaped from each district and paired with twenty-four tributes from another district, creating six games with forty-eight tributes each. Only twelve tributes will survive each double-sized games. The seventy-two tributes that survive this first stage will be put into two games with thirty-six tributes. Once again, twelve tributes will survive each of these games. Finally, the twenty-four remaining tributes will be placed in one final arena to vie for the ultimate victory.

This victor will have survived three consecutive Hunger Games. They will have picked their way out of a crowd of forty-eight, then out of thirty-six, then out of twenty-four. Their survival will necessitate the deaths of two-hundred eighty-seven other children.

After giving the announcement, President Hazel tells the nation that Districts 5 and 8 are battling first. The rest is to be unveiled in due time.


	2. D5-D8: Reapings

**A/N: Here's the brief introduction to our first 48 tributes. The number of tributes is way too much to give everyone their share of spotlight, but don't worry, many of them will be explored further as the number of tributes dwindles. Please tell me your thoughts: favorite, least favorite, most likely/least likely to reach the final twelve?**

* * *

**Dahlis Wheatford, 34**

**Escort for District 5**

Zaelia, my makeup artist, pulls my midnight black hair out of my face and ties it back with a stretchy black hairband. I zone out as she begins to apply the makeup, transfixed on the holographic screen that hovers over the glass coffee table.

They've been showing the first thirty-nine Quarter Quells on a rotating wheel for the past month, ever since the quell twist was announced. The second Quarter Quell, which took place fifty years after the end of the terrible Dark Days, is one of the few I haven't streamed yet.

Each district provided twice the number of tributes. A few strong tributes came from each district, most notably the Haysilee duo from District 12. However, all of the strength came from the careers, which had to split into three different groups after the bloodbath. On Day 4, the picturesque snow-capped mountain blew its top, killing nearly a dozen tributes and rendering that section of the arena uninhabitable. Later in the games, Maysilee tragically died, eventually leaving Haymitch alone against the fearsome Katoptris from District 1. They never show the finale on television anymore, only the moment where Haymitch is crowned victor and taken into the hovercraft.

A heavy knock comes on the door just as the trumpets sound. A peacekeeper enters the room. "Ma'am, the cameras begin rolling in sixty seconds."

I turn around, expecting to see Zaelia, but she must have left a long time ago. I take a peek at myself in the mirror, taking in my own sparkly pink cheeks and contoured face. The peacekeeper is still standing in the doorway, and I feel awkward making him wait, so I rush out of the room and onto stage, giving my fiery orange wig a slight shake to let it settle.

"Welcome, District 5!" I shout, clapping my hands over my head. About half of the crowd cheers in response. District 5 doesn't provide careers as strong as those from 1, 2, or 4, but it has a decent academy with a fair amount of funding. It's safe to expect at least five or six careers from this place.

"Now, let's get down to business. We'll do this in an alternating fashion: first a girl, then a boy, then a girl, and so on."

I zip toward the girls' reaping ball and draw the first name. "Ti…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A blonde girl with stunning green eyes jogs to the stage.

"Can you give us a name and age please?"

She eagerly takes the microphone. "I'm Cosima Shaffer. I'm 16."

I pick a boy. "Tu…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A second strong career takes the spotlight.

"I'm Preston Richards. I'm 17."

A girl. "Lilith Mercier!" A 15 year old girl walks slowly to the stage, looking dazed.

"Hector Starling!" A tall, dark-haired 16 year old walks to the stage.

"Pe…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A petite girl with lots of muscle starts out of the crowd.

"Another career?" I ask.

"I'm Henna Norcross," she responds. "And I'm 18. I wasn't planning on volunteering until Cosima volunteered. We make a great team."

I pick the third boy. "Edison Rye!" a healthy 18 year old steps forward.

"Vida Aslin!" a crying 13 year old girl steps up to the stage. One of the other tributes, Lilith, gives her a big hug and tries to console her.

"Felix Landers!" A muscular and attractive 18 year old boy steps forward: the strongest non-career tribute so far.

"Genera Coover!" A malnourished girl with a cast on her arm takes the stage.

"My arm was injured in the factories," Genera explains. I nod as she takes her place next to the other tributes.

"Wyatt Kluss!" an average-looking 15 year old boy walks out of the crowd.

A girl. "Tasha Spark!" A girl with fiery red hair, age 18, walks to the stage. I compliment her on her hair, but she cringes, terrified.

A boy. "Burnie Spark!" The boy that comes to the stage has identical red hair and a similar face. "We're twins," he explains, sharing a nervous look with Tasha.

I pick the seventh girl. "Ashleen Verbeck!" A thin, scrawny 17 year old saunters forward.

"Nelson Griffiths!" A much younger boy with a similar physique walks forward. He whispers his age into my ear.

"Nelson is 14, everyone!" I announce.

"Francina Damige!" An 18 year old girl with several piercings, tattoos, and hair dyed purple steps forward. "It's how I express myself," she explains when I ask her about it.

"Dawson Brisk!" A 15 year old stares daggers at me as he walks forward.

"Moxie Cratchit!" A tiny 13 year old takes the stage, evidently trying not to shake.

"Sparky Curtis!" I shout.

"I volunteer as tribute!" someone shouts. The 18 year old section clears around a single boy.

"Another career?" I ask, doubtful at his meager appearance.

"No. I'm Thred Curtis. That's my brother."

Only six more tributes to go. "Sybil Occing!" A 15 year old girl, quietly crying, steps forward.

"Looper Wattson!" a 12 year old with fluffy brown hair walks to the stage, trembling.

"Everly Fless!" Another 12 year old walks forward. She hugs Looper, which surprises me, because they don't look similar.

"We've been dating for three months," Everly says.

"Electron Davies!" A muscular and intimidating 17 year old runs forward, chuckling.

"Are you a career?" I ask.

He nods. "The academy says I'm 'troubled' and forbade me from volunteering. But sometimes things just work out."

I laugh in agreement, picking the last girl. "Nimona Marks!" The first dark-skinned tribute, an 18 year old with black hair, shuffles to the stage.

"And finally… Boltson Howcroft!" A 17 year old boy, impressively tall, zips to the stage.

I list the twenty-four tributes, having to consult the drawn slips of paper when I can't remember some of their names. It's hard to run through them all. "Congratulations to Cosima, Preston, Lilith, Hector, Henna, Edison, Vida, Felix, Genera, Wyatt, Tasha, Burnie, Ashleen, Nelson, Francina, Dawson, Moxie, Thred, Sybil, Looper, Everly, Electron, Nimona, and Boltson!"

The audience applauds halfheartedly as I step into the Justice Building with the 24 tributes trailing behind. I wonder which of these tributes will make it past the quell's first stage.

* * *

**Miranda Coakum, 28**

**Escort for District 8**

I'll start off by saying that District 8 isn't a superpower. Even before the Dark Days, it was a dismal place, filled with smoke, factories, and harmful industrial fumes. In the time since then, the district has risen significantly, with substantially better working and living conditions. As the fashion sense of us Capitolites has evolved, District 8 has had to evolve too. In fact, it's probably the district that has changed the most since the first games.

"Welcome, District 8!" I shout, pointing the microphone toward the crowd to amplify their cheers. Only a few people clap, which creates an awkward effect, so I quickly pick back up. "We'll do this in an alternating fashion: first a girl, then a boy, then a girl, and so on."

I pick the first name out of the girls' reaping ball. "Ma…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A small but swift girl with wavy black hair sprints forward. "I'm Organza Evernight. I'm 18."

"That's great!" I shout, drawing a boy name. "Pe…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" The second career takes the stage.

"I'm Madras Kestler," he announces. "I'm 17."

"Se…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A girl similar to Organza in many ways steps out of the crowd, glaring and chuckling. "I'm Patternia Veil," she says. "I'm 16."

I pick a boy. "Needle Rhys!" A scrawny, malnourished 13 year old trembles on his path to the stage.

"Lily Cardigan!" A 12 year old girl, crying, steps forward.

"Damon Malone!" A somewhat strong-looking 18 year old stands on the stage, towering over the diminutive Needle and Lily.

"Flossie Peller!" A girl rolls out of the 15 year old section in a wheelchair. Avoxes have to lay down a ramp on the steps so she can roll up to the stage.

"Linen Topher!" A weak 16 year old, trembling, claims his spot as the fourth male tribute.

"Lycra Torren!" A 17 year old girl with clear porcelain skin, the healthiest tribute so far, takes the stage. The others stare at her in terror.

"Lou Singh!" The 12 year old is unresponsive for a few moments. Then two peacekeepers grab him, dragging him to the stage. His mother wails, begging for him to be freed.

"Silky Ianis!" An 18 year old girl with long strides runs to the stage, looking confident.

"Cloth Topper!" The 18 year old section clears around a single quivering boy, who has no choice but to sprint to the stage.

"Dressal Maddox!" The third consecutive 18 year old, a healthy girl with clean skin, shuffles out of the crowd.

"Velvet Reigns!" a forgettable 16 year old boy steps to the stage, hanging his head low.

"Angora Cards!" A girl with dirty clothes and skin, probably a factory worker, saunters out of the 16 year old section.

"Rollag Hermes!" A 16 year old boy, hesitant, slowly makes his way to the stage.

"Brigitta Channel!" An 18 year old girl starts to sprint to the stage. A peacekeeper suddenly begins shouting, pointing a finger at the mayor.

"You said her name was out of the reaping!" Brigitta's peacekeeper father shouts. "You said she was safe!" The mayor shivers with guilt.

A boy. "Archie Walker!" A boy in a factory worker uniform, 15 years old, jogs weakly to the stage.

A girl. "Sasha Grotrekk!" A 14 year old girl, dazed, sprints toward the stage, taking a place next to Silky.

"Marble Congrutts!" A 17 year old boy holds his head high, fighting back tears as he runs to the Justice Building.

"Threada Collins!" Another 17 year old, thin but healthy, steps forward.

"Crochet Undersee!" The first 18 year old since Brigitta, Crochet looks fairly confident. He won't be crying on camera, that's for sure.

The last girl. "Violet Savageau!" A 12 year old girl, crying and begging to be saved, shambles to the stage.

And the final tribute. "Indigo Savageau!" Another 12 year old, probably Violet's brother, shuffles to the stage in her wake.

The remainder of the youths in the crowd sigh, realizing that they're now safe. I turn around, naming the tributes in rapid succession. "Congratulations to Organza, Madras, Patternia, Needle, Lily, Damon, Flossie, Linen, Lycra, Lou, Silky, Cloth, Dressal, Velvet, Angora, Rollag, Brigitta, Archie, Sasha, Marble, Threada, Crochet, Violet, and Indigo! May the odds be ever in your favor!"

I turn around and escort the 24 tributes into the Justice Building, where they will have an hour to talk to their loved ones before being taken to the Capitol: the place where effectively all of these tributes will die.


	3. D5-D8: Trains and Chariots

**A/N: Hi again! I decided to combine the train rides and chariot rides into one chapter, just because I didn't think the chariots were long enough to be their own individual chapter. I also know it isn't canon for all of the tributes to be on the same train, but these final games are anything but normal. And besides, this makes for lots of interesting inter-tribute discussion and alliance. Please tell me about your favorites, least favorites, and anything else you want :D**

* * *

**Rollag Hermes, 16**

**District 8 8th Male**

For the first few hours of the train ride, the kitchenette was packed with the undernourished kids fighting their way to the fridge. I'll admit it tugged at my heartstrings to see them crying as they shoved the colorful Capitol food into their mouths. I noticed Needle and Lily in particular. Their throats fought back when they tried to swallow the food: like they hadn't eaten that much food in a really, really long time.

The 24 of us have been on the train for almost an entire day before we come to a stop in a barren, open field in District 5.

"Where the hell are we?" Archie asks, gesturing to the desert place out of the window.

I shrug my shoulders. "They're probably inspecting the train or something. Making sure we aren't carrying anything illegal before we're allowed across district borders."

Archie picks up a spoonful of thick baby-blue pudding. "Why would we have anything illegal with us?"

"We wouldn't," he says. "They're just, you know, rubbing their authority in our faces."

A peacekeeper comes around and tells us we might be detained for as much as half an hour. The five-piece alliance huddled onto a single couch in the living room (Cloth, Dressal, Velvet, Marble, and Crochet) all swear in unison. Violet and Indigo, the tiny brother and sister who were reaped last, start crying even harder. The three careers scowl. Silky and Sasha just seem dazed.

The loners shuffle into the room gradually as time passes. The weaker ones, like Needle, Lily, and Lou, jump at every slight sound and try to stay as far away from the others as possible, like we might attack them out of the blue. I've noticed Flossie doing a lot of wheeling around by herself. I do feel bad for her, but it's not like I can bring myself to help her. There's no way she'll survive the bloodbath, and nothing can change that.

The 24 of us breathe a collective sigh of relief as the train starts moving again. After about a minute, we pull into a long white building. Then the train slides open and the District 5 tributes shuffle through the door one by one.

The careers from 5, whose names I don't know, immediately group up with the Organza-Madras-Patternia trio. Francina's brightly dyed hair and various other body modifications catch my eye, as does the fiery red hair of Tasha and Burnie. I know their names from the printed list that the peacekeepers passed around at lunchtime. Their hair is so bright it almost hurts to look at. There are only a few tall non-career tributes: namely Nimona and Boltson. A number of the other tributes are short and relatively scrawny. I guess Districts 5 and 8 have more in common than I thought.

A few minutes later, Archie wanders away for a bathroom break. I decide to take this opportunity and meet some of the other tributes. With 48 tributes, being part of an alliance is paramount.

"Let's start this off by being honest with each other. What do you think your chances are?"

I find myself tuning into a conversation between three tributes from District 5, three boys with similar complexions.

"Well, someone's eavesdropping," one of the boys says.

"How rude of someone," the youngest boy says. They both laugh a little. "You, come on over here. I'm Dawson, by the way."

"Thred," the tallest boy says. "And this is Hector."

"I'm, uh, Rollag," I stammer. Something about this makes me feel nervous. The immediate prospect of interacting with my potential killers is more than a little off-putting. "Rollag Hermes."

I quickly find that Hector, Dawson, and Thred are more friendly than I thought they were. I figure I should try to please them somehow, so I compliment Thred on being brave enough to volunteer for his brother. He just shrugs. "He would have done the same for me."

I'm feeling guilty about abandoning Archie, and the realization crosses my mind that I've ruined my chances of ever being a real ally to him. But it isn't like friendships in the games are at all meaningful, so I can't feel too bad about things.

As the room begins to quiet down, I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, nodding off to the silence.

* * *

**Felix Landers, 18**

**District 5 4th Male**

I try not to let the poisonous gazes of the career tributes bother me. I feel pretty secure in an anti-career pack with five members, but it's hard not to shiver when there are trained tributes sizing you up in pretty much every observable manner. When Threada suggests we move to a different train car, none of us object. Threada and Brigitta rush out of the car together. Sybil, Boltson, and I follow quickly behind.

I figure Threada is leading us somewhere, but she turns around after about a minute. "See anywhere we could sit down?" She's actually sweating.

"I don't see anywhere," Brigitta notes. "And I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Yeah," Boltson agrees. "They don't want us spreading out too far. The only places to relax are right next to each other."

I've never been one of the rebels on television that light buildings on fire and hold up signs urging the Capitol to be torn down. But I've held a deep distaste for the Capitol ever since my father died. It was the factory that killed him. One-hundred percent. All that smoke in his lungs slowly took away his life force. It was both depressing and terrifying to watch as his entire will to exist slowly left him.

The five of us end up settling for a small cushioned nook in one of the distant train cars. Only a few other tributes are here: Nelson from 5, Damon and Angora from 8. The three of them quickly leave, however, and then we have the whole space to ourselves.

I seat myself, then the other four sit down in a circle: Sybil to my left, then Threada, Boltson, and Brigitta. An avox making rounds offers us some coffee. All of us refuse except Sybil, who gladly slurps down a mug of the steaming liquid.

"My dad always drank this stuff. He never let me try it."

"Doesn't that burn your mouth?" Brigitta asks.

"Not really, as long as you drink it slowly. You sort of have to swish it around in your mouth to cool it down before you swallow. You want some?"

"No thanks."

She raises her eyebrows and sets down the mug.

"Anyway," Boltson blurts out. "We should talk about weapons. When the academy came around to my school to gather recruits, they let me try out spears for a little while. They said I did well, but I don't know whether they were lying.

"They were lying," Threada says. "I've seen you in the halls before. You throw like your arm is broken."

"Gee, thanks," Boltson says, but I can tell he's glad he never set his hopes high.

"I really don't know about weapons," Threada says. "I've never used one. You, Felix?"

"Oh," I say. "I've had lots of practice with knives over the years. So I'd have to go with those. Brigitta, isn't your dad a peacekeeper?"

"Oh, yeah," Brigitta sighs. "There were literally guns and swords lying around the house. I can swing a sword better than anyone I know. And I probably have some rich sponsors on my side."

"I doubt there will be any guns in the arena," I add. "It doesn't really fit with their theme. Not even careers get guns. Or anti-careers. We are anti-careers, right?"

"I guess so." Threada shrugs. "We'll just have to wait and see what name the Capitol gives us."

* * *

**Silky Ianis, 18**

**District 8 6th Female**

I find myself thinking back to my high school days as the tributes start forming groups around them. I feel more than a little useless as I just stand there, with groups and alliances bunching together around me like trash piling up in a dark alley. It's a feeling reminiscent of the cliquey high school environment.

It's a stupid sentiment, I know, but my mind is currently grasping for things to focus on: anything other than my imminent fate.

"What are you doing?" a girl's voice says.

I turn around quickly. A girl I remember from the reaping—Sash, I think—stands less than a foot from me. I step quickly backward.

"My name's Sasha," she says. "And I, uh, wondered if you want to talk."

So it's Sasha, not Sash. Ha. Sasha gives me theater nerd vibes: hair pins, lots of bracelets, and metal braces lining her slightly crooked teeth. "I'm Silky," I say, and for a moment I'm just really glad to have found a friend.

"So, what's your family like?" Sasha asks as we start to walk.

"The usual," I say. "Dad had to stop working when his arm got caught in a machine. Torn off cleanly. There was blood and bone and everything. Now mom is the main breadwinner."

Sasha cringes, crinkling her nose. She's definitely very expressive. "I'm sorry."

"It's all good. He's recently able to walk again. What's your family like?"

"I was adopted, actually," Sasha says. "Taken from the community home by this rich husband and wife whose last kid had just been shot. Rules were so strict. No door-closing allowed other than the bathroom. All out-of-school social functions had to be approved by at least one of them beforehand. But the wife lets me use her makeup now."

The realization hits me that she is wearing makeup: not much, just some eyeliner, foundation, concealer, and a little pink lipstick.

"It's not much," Sasha explains. "Because I don't want to look fake. I don't want to be someone I'm not. I just want to be Sasha Jute Grotrekk."

I suddenly bump into another girl, about my height and age. "Excuse you," she scowls, and I hurriedly apologize, stepping away. I remember her distinct dark skin from the reaping. Another girl is with her as well: one of the younger girls, Moxie, I think. I suck at remembering names.

"I'm Sasha Grotrekk," Sasha hurriedly says, extending her hand.

The dark-skinned girl slowly shakes. "I'm Nimona Marks."

"And I'm Silky Ianis," I say.

"And I'm Moxie Crachit," the smaller girl says. I guess I did get her name right.

Sasha and Moxie start talking about different colors of the rainbow or something, and I'm left with Nimona. She's far from a pleasant person, but I find she can hold up a great conversation if you keep feeding her things to talk about.

"I guess we're allies, then," Sasha says, shaking all of our hands again.

Nimona doesn't look too happy about that, but she doesn't complain, and we continue to chat quietly until curfew arrives.

* * *

**Preston Richards, 17**

**District 5 1st Male**

"Well, there are seven of us," Henna says, running her finger along the edge of the table. "That means we can all make it past this first stage if we're careful enough."

"We can't all make it past," Electron says. "At least two or three of us are going to die, I guarantee it. The gamemakers want an even blend of careers and weaklings moving onward."

Organza hisses slightly. She just hates Electron, with a fuming passion. "What do you mean, 'even blend'? This first stage doesn't even matter. The gamemakers can worry more about dishing things out later on in the..."

Electron starts to raise his voice. "What do you mean 'this first stage doesn't matter'? We're…"

"Quiet!" Patternia shouts. "You guys are acting like immature assholes. It's really annoying."

"Look who's using the word immature," Cosima mocks. "You're the youngest here."

A peacekeeper barges into the room. "You kids, break it up!"

I decide to dive into the group fight. "Let's start by—I don't know—introducing ourselves? I'll start. I'm Preston Richards and I like spears."

"Henna Norcross. Swords."

"Cosima Shaffer. Bow and arrow."

"Patternia Veil. Daggers."

"Organza Evernight. Swords."

"Madras Kestler. Spears."

"Well, that accomplished nothing," Patternia says.

"Of course it accomplished something," Cosima interjects. "If there are microphones around, we just told the gamemakers what weapons to put in the arena."

Madras laughs a little. "And now we know, you know, more about each other. Picked any victims yet?"

"I reckon we should take out the stronger tributes first," Organza suggests. "Hector, Lycra. And all of the anti-careers, of course."

"What about the little ones?" Madras asks. "They'll be easy to pick off."

"We should stay away from them," I suggest. "The Capitol is going to, you know, fall in love with them. And they'll start to hate us if we kill them off."

"The last thing we need this early on is a soiled reputation," Henna agrees. "There are 288 of us at this stage. Anyone who doesn't stand out, in a good way, is dead."

I've argued with myself about whether being in a big group helps you stand out. I don't think it does, but what am I going to do, just walk away from the careers when I've been training to be a part of the group for years?

I guess it's the best I can do to wait on the sidelines until the number of tributes is smaller. Then I can exert all of my energy on picking my way out.

* * *

**Alliances:**

**Careers: Cosima, Preston, Henna, Electron, Organza, Madras, Patternia**

**Anti-Careers: Felix, Sybil, Boltson, Brigitta, Threada**

**The Guys Next Door: Hector, Dawson, Thred, Rollag**

**Girls Meets World: Moxie, Nimona, Silky, Sasha**

**District 8: Cloth, Dressal, Velvet, Marble, Crochet**

**The Babies: Looper, Everly, Violet, Indigo**

**Siblings To The End: Tasha, Burnie**

**Loners (For Now): Lilith, Edison, Vida, Genera, Wyatt, Ashleen, Nelson, Francina, Needle, Lily, Damon, Flossie, Linen, Lycra, Lou, Angora, Archie**

* * *

**Titus Andronicus Bacchus Hazel, 45**

**President of Panem**

The balcony of the presidential mansion provides an extraordinary view of the blocked-off road, the sparkling camera drones flying overhead, and the many tiers of the roaring crowd. I manage to catch slight flashes of movement at the far end of the road, where the chariots are being prepared for the parade.

I lift my hand into the air and wave in the nearest avox. "Get me a glass of champagne." He nods and walks away.

The crowd momentarily falls silent as a burst of microphone static reverberates around the square. The master of ceremonies, Phoenix Withers, shouts the word "testing" and the crowd roars in ecstatic response. Phoenix knows just how to enchant a crowd. He spends about ten minutes telling small stories while the parade is thrown into order. The anthem begins, the first chariot appears, and Phoenix changes his voice into commentator mode, narrating with his signature grand style.

"Here comes the first pair of tributes, and watch them sparkle! Cosima Shaffer and Preston Richards, both careers I've heard, are wearing outfits studded with black crystal. Look at those sparks fly. Certainly electrifying outfits, and please pardon all puns aforementioned and hereafter. Next out is Lilith Mercier and Hector Starling, dressed as power plant workers. Those rubbery uniforms look really uncomfortable. Yawn. Henna Norcross and Edison Rye are out next. Henna's looking confident. Seriously, she's sporting all of those glowing red bracelets. How do they not burn her? Mr. Edison isn't looking as sure. Give us a smile, Edison. Give us just one. Ah, there we go. Set four, Vida Aslin and Felix Landers. I'm surprised the chariot isn't tipping over; just look at their size differences! But they're both wearing those sparkly orange outfits well. Reminds me of the sun; solar power. Ah, the creativity of these stylists. And here comes Genera Coover and Wyatt Kluss, both underdogs, no doubt about that. Those outfits can't be comfortable. Seriously, who makes a suit and a dress made entirely out of wire? Look at the cuts on their skin. Genera's arm was injured in an accent before the reaping, but she's on the road to healing. I can only imagine how much those wires dig into the skin, but we can't rant about them all day. Tasha Spark and Burnie Spark are out next, our first pair of siblings. Dressed as water spirits; how cute! Tasha looks pretty confident. Burnie not so much. Other than that, they look pretty similar; does anyone reckon they're twins? Just food for thought. Ashleen Verbeck and Nelson Griffiths are out now: wow! Look at that steampunk effect! How can all of those gears fit into our budget? That was a joke. We don't really have a budget. Anyway, they're definitely the most memorable outfits so far, and both lovely tributes too! They'll definitely be popular. Next comes our colorful self-expression princess Francina Damige and our cool dude Dawson Brisk! I wonder what those garish colors represent. Sunlight, maybe? It's definitely open to speculation. Now it's time for Moxie Cratchit and Thred Curtis, wearing all-black outfits, a dress and a suit respectively. I think they're supposed to represent fuel? I'm waiting for them to start burning. No? No. Bummer. But there's always another chariot coming up. Put your hands together for Sybil Occing and Looper Wattson, another extraordinarily mismatched duo. They're both rocking those… lightbulb outfits! Lightbulbs? Definitely unique. Everly Fless and Electron Davies are out next. Oh no, Everly's afraid of Electron. Don't cry, Everly. We're all just here to have fun. The two of them are wrapped in strings of electric lights. Not the worst wardrobe design I've ever talked over, but it isn't like I've never seen worse. Ah, but I'm getting carried away. Here comes our twelfth pair, Nimona Marks and Boltson Howcroft. Both strong tributes, no doubt about that, and both lookers too. Wow, look at that golden fabric. I can see it sparkle from all the way up here. And trust me, I am extremely high up. Look ma, no hands! That was District 5 for you all. District 8's chariots will be running through in a short moment. Until then, it's my job to keep you all entertained with my stellar comedy. I'm joking, it's not that great. Come on, you can agree. It won't hurt my feelings. I promise."

"Here comes District 8, led by Organza Evernight and Madras Kestler. Look at all those different colored silks. Not garish or thrown together, but not overdone either; great! Patternia Veil and Needle Rhys are out next. They may be small, but I know Patternia to pack a punch. And I'm sure Needle has some hidden potential buried down beneath the surface. We'll just have to wait and see. Now comes Lily Cardigan and Damon Malone, wearing outfits made entirely out of… needles?! Wow, that must be painful! They're wearing the discomfort well, though. Ouch, look at Lily flinch. Poor girl. Flossie Peller and Linen Topher are next. Flossie is in her wheelchair as usual, with Linen standing up as usual. They're in pure white cotton outfits. I see a few faint patterns, but nothing here is very flashy. Next up are Lycra Torren and Lou Singh, 17 and 12 years old respectively. They're wearing light pink and blue outfits with little pom-poms attached. I hope too many of them don't fall off. Our lovely Silky Ianis and Cloth Topper make up our next pair, in fiery orange blazers. Silky has a few colorful streaks woven into her hair, but Cloth's outfit is pretty plain. Bummer. Our seventh set: Dressal Maddox and Velvet Reigns, wearing burlap costumes. To put it bluntly, they look a bit like potato sacks. Not like potato sacks are bad things, but I bet the scratchy fabric is chafing their skin badly. Put your hands together for Angora Cards and Rollag Hermes. And wow, this is a change from the last pair's burlap outfits. They're wearing sequined silvery outfits. Creative and original; great. And just look at Rollag's smile! Brigitta Channel, peacekeeper spawn, alongside the younger Archie Walker. Brigitta looks amazingly confident in her peacekeeper uniform. Archie seems down in the dumps. Cheer up, Archie! Next out is the duo of Sasha Grotrekk and Marble Congrutts. Those outfits are very colorful: thousands of crisscrossed threads. Look at all those different colors! Beautiful! And Sasha is just beaming. Give a warm welcome to Threada Collins and Crochet Undersee. The two of them are both wrapped with fuzzy baby-blue string: yarn, I think. Yep, it's definitely yarn. Phew, at least they can move their arms, but they're definitely sweating a lot. Last, but certainly not least, Violet Savageau and Indigo Savageau! Oh, they're both crying. You've got to feel for the kids. There, there. Give us a smile! Their outfits are pretty plain, just a suit and a dress in each of their colors, but they look great in them. That's it, then. That's the first 48 tributes of the fortieth and final Quarter Quell! Tune in tomorrow for the first day of training. Until then, it's Phoenix Withers, out!"


	4. D5-D8: Training and Interviews

**A/N: Wow, this one is long! I kind of want to zip through the pre-games as fast as possible, because I have a lot planned for the actual games, and that's the juicy bit of this story anyway. The tributes here have three days of training, but I'm only writing about one of them because I feel things would get repetitive otherwise. Anyway, this chapter is a medley of training, private sessions, scores, and interviews. I think I've compacted it decently well here, and I hope you enjoy. The bloodbath is next!**

* * *

**Dawson Brisk, 16**

**District 5 8th Male**

Our escort, Dahlis, is a mess as she tries to orchestrate breakfast. At first, she insists on doing it without the avoxes' help. There are 24 tributes, 24 stylists, a few other prep team members, and the poor lady herself. There's hardly enough food to feed us all, and when the avoxes finally start to help her, she doesn't complain.

I feel bad for laughing as her fiery orange wig begins to fall off of her head. She really is a nice lady. She just needs to stop stressing over little things.

Before we're allowed to get our food, we have to sit down at one of the long tables. Dahlis says it's just to make sure there's enough room for us, but I can tell she just wants a break before she has to set out all of the food.

I sit down next to Hector and Thred, who both have severe cases of bedhead from the long night. We talked on the train yesterday, along with Rollag, but he's on a different floor with the other District 8 tributes. We'll have to fill him in on our conversations later.

The careers, Cosima, Preston, Henna, and Electron, seat themselves together at the far table. From there, they have a good view of all of us. Moxie and Nimona sit together as well. I'm shocked by the number of loners there are: tributes like Vida, Wyatt, and Genera who just look sad as they sit alone, staring down at their drumming fingers. I've noticed tributes starting to talk to Ashleen and Nelson after the splash they made last night at the chariot parade. They're the lucky ones.

When we're finally allowed to get our food, we're called up in small groups to keep us from swarming the snack table. I find myself drooling when our turn is called. I'm aiming for flavor here, not nutritional value, just because I really need some cheering up. Hector suggests that the brighter colored food probably tastes better, so I take a big spoonful of the hot pink soup and all of the colorful berries that fill the circle of porcelain bowls around it.

Breakfast is a quick affair. The stronger tributes are eager to get down to training, and the weaker tributes are too nervous to eat. I'm pretty indifferent as I slurp down my soup. I'll admit the thought of training intimidates me a little. Once again, I'm so glad to be part of a group.

* * *

**Cloth Topper, 18**

**District 8 6th Male**

Dressal, Velvet, Marble, and Crochet are already striding over to the spear station when I get off of the elevator. I hurry to follow them, but slow down when I realize the careers are watching. I can run pretty much as fast as I want, but I can't jog without looking stupid.

The trainer at the spear station starts telling us what to do. I try to listen, but Dressal and Marble have already started throwing, and I'm itching to get started myself. Velvet and Crochet end up turning away eventually. It feels rude, but I don't want to stand out, so I head over to the row of targets and pick up a spear.

"Remember what he said?" I say quietly, watching Velvet throw the spear from a completely upright position.

"No," he admits, laughing a little. "I wasn't listening."

I roll my eyes. "You're supposed to be in a place where you can swing your arm farther. Lean down a little."

Crochet is the first tribute to hit the bull's-eye, and the trainer claps his hands, applauding him on his form. Dressal lands a little later. I manage to hit the target a few times, but always near the rim, while Crochet and Marble manage to consistently land their spears toward the center.

I figure I'm aiming too far to the left, so I throw a little bit to the right to counteract that. I don't have much luck with that. Before long, our session is over, and we're dismissed.

"That was relatively informative," I murmur, setting down my spear.

"Yeah," Marble agrees. "I've never actually used a spear before."

"That's not something you should admit twenty meters away from the careers," Dressal says.

Marble scoffs. "Those careers can suck a penis. There are so many untrained tributes here, it's hardly worth it worrying about the careers at this point."

The nearest career tribute, Patternia I think, starts to hiss Marble's name. If she does utter something else, we don't hear it, because we've already relocated to the sword station.

"That was a close one," I whisper.

They must have remodeled the sword station this year, because there are multiple separate groups of tributes training here at the same time. The nerdy girls, Moxie, Nimona, Silky, and Sasha, have their own little group going on. A few of the loners, Lilith, Nelson, Damon, Lycra, and Archie, are training alone with dummies. There's another duo here: Brigitta and Threada. I'm pretty sure they have three other allies, but they're at the other end of the training center doingssurvival stations. There are two boys and a girl. I recognize Felix and Boltson. I know the girl's name has a "y" in it. I try to think of her name, and it's bugging me, but I shove that to the edge of my mind as the trainer hands us swords and tells us to begin.

* * *

**Organza Evernight, 18**

**District 8 1st Female**

We've just finished the bow and arrow station when the lunch bell rings. A few of the terrified weaklings are hesitant to move at first. Preston starts running, shouting that we have to get the best seats before all of the tables fill. That seems pretty petty, but I don't want to lag behind, so I trail behind at full speed.

We manage to snatch the single elevated table. It has an unobstructed view of every other table. There are eight seats here and seven of us, but I don't think we have to worry about some random kid sitting down here with us.

Instead of calling us up in table groups like a sensible human, Dahlis insists on calling us up in alphabetical order by our first names. Preston groans to my right, and Dahlis shouts that we can all use a little cheering up. We all expect it to take forever, but we're all too hungry to complain. We just let her have her fun as she runs through her handwritten list.

"Angora Cards!" she calls out. The squat, pudgy little girl stands up from one of the far tables and zooms over to the food table. It takes at least three minutes to get through the first letter, because Archie cries and walks slowly all the way to the table, and Ashleen trips and lands flat on her face. I feel bad for laughing, but when in the Capitol…

Boltson, Brigitta, and Burnie make up the next letter. The letter "L" takes the longest, with Lilith, Lily, Linen, Looper, Lou, and Lycra standing up in awkward sequence and shuffling to get their food.

By the time my name is called, I'm ready to practically explode with boredom. I leap out of my seat the instant she says the name Organza. I'm too exhausted to be picky, so I fill my bowl with an assortment of weird colorful creams. Then I snatch up a plate of some exotic meat and head back to the table.

I start to eat the food, but Dahlis insists that it's rude to eat until everyone has their food. Patternia is called next, then Preston, Rollag, Sasha, Silky, Sybil, Tasha, Threada… kill me now.

The room lets out a collective sigh of relief when Wyatt finishes filling his plate. Dahlis waves at us to begin eating, and at least half of the food in the room is gone within the first fifteen seconds.

"This tastes like shit," Madras mutters. Electron nods in agreement. I do too, but I'm too busy eating the shit to form a verbal response. We were never exactly starved at the academy, but we were never really able to eat as much as we liked.

"Organza, slow down!" Dahlis says, walking over to our table. "You'll get stomach cramps."

She takes the eighth seat at our table, squeezing in between Cosima and Henna. It's a disappointment, because we can't talk about anything heinous now that she's here. Patternia politely asks her to leave, which is such a weird change from her usual fiery attitude I have to blink hard and make sure it's her.

"I've never seen you so polite before, Patternia," I whisper after Dahlis steps away.

"Ah, fuck off," she mutters. "You know how hell will break loose when we enter the arena. Manners are only for these stupid pre-games things."

I roll my eyes and dive my spoon back into my food, eager to finish everything before we're called back to training.

* * *

**Neptune Amaryllis, 56**

**Head Gamemaker**

I hold up my glass of expensive scotch, watching the small chunks of ice glitter and shrink in the heat of the bright overhead lights. My study is cold today—I work better in the cold—but the lights alone are enough to melt the ice and water down the drink. An avox should arrive any minute now.

I take a big sip, savoring the fiery flavor. My favorite.

A knock comes on the door, and an avox slowly enters, wordlessly handing me a yellow envelope bearing the Capitol seal. The avox leaves the room slowly, silently shutting the door behind him. I break open the envelope's wax seal and pull out the confidential papers inside.

_PRIVATE SESSIONS REPORT_

_Below is a list of the tributes and the skills which they showcased in their individual private sessions. You are to use this list as a point of reference when determining the tributes' training scores. Destroy this document after use. Thank you._

_DISTRICT 5_

_Cosima Shaffer: Showcased bow skills (10/12) and spear skills (9/12)_

_Preston Richards: Showcased spear skills (9/12) and hand-to-hand combat skills (7/12)_

_Lilith Mercier: Showcased fire-starting skills (4/12) and agility skills (4/12)_

_Hector Starling: Showcased sword skills (6/12) and dagger skills (5/12)_

_Henna Norcross: Showcased sword skills (10/12)_

_Edison Rye: Showcased knife skills (6/12), fire-starting skills (5/12), and water purification skills (4/12)_

_Vida Aslin: Showcased knot tying skills (4/12) and camouflage skills (5/12)_

_Felix Landers: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and gauntlet skills (8/12)_

_Genera Coover: Showcased edible plants skills (5/12) and shelter-building skills (3/12)_

_Wyatt Kluss: Showcased knot-tying skills (6/12) and mace skills (1/12)_

_Tasha Spark: Showcased throwing knife skills (4/12)_

_Burnie Spark: Showcased throwing knife skills (4/12) and bow skills (5/12)_

_Ashleen Verbeck: Showcased crossbow skills (2/12) and fire-starting skills (2/12)_

_Nelson Griffiths: Showcased rope-climbing skills (3/12)_

_Francina Damige: Showcased edible plants skills (4/12), hammock-making skills (4/12), and camouflage skills (3/12)_

_Dawson Brisk: Showcased knife skills (7/12) and sword skills (5/12)_

_Moxie Cratchit: Showcased rope-climbing skills (4/12) and agility skills (5/12)_

_Thred Curtis: Showcased spear skills (6/12), knife skills (4/12), and camouflage skills (2/12)_

_Sybil Occing: Showcased bow skills (7/12) and bow skills (6/12)_

_Looper Wattson: Showcased knife skills (3/12)_

_Everly Fless: Showcased knot-tying skills (4/12) and rope-climbing skills (4/12)_

_Electron Davies: Showcased weight-lifting skills (11/12), hand-to-hand combat skills (10/12), sword skills (10/12), and mace skills (9/12)_

_Nimona Marks: Showcased knife skills (7/12), gauntlet skills (6/12), and throwing knife skills (5/12)_

_Boltson Howcroft: Showcased spear skills (8/12) and throwing knife skills (8/12)_

_DISTRICT 8_

_Organza Evernight: Showcased sword skills (10/12) and mace skills (9/12)_

_Madras Kestler: Showcased spear skills (11/12)_

_Patternia Veil: Showcased dagger skills (11/12), agility skills (10/12), and gauntlet skills (10/12)_

_Needle Rhys: Showcased fire-starting skills (2/12)_

_Lily Cardigan: Showcased shelter-buildings kills (3/12) and throwing knife skills (1/12)_

_Damon Malone: Showcased wresting skills (3/12) and Showcased dagger skills (5/12)_

_Flossie Peller: Showcased throwing knife skills (2/12) and water purification skills (1/12)_

_Linen Topher: Showcased hatchet skills (7/12) and throwing knife skills (4/12)_

_Lycra Torren: Showcased gauntlet skills (9/12) and axe skills (8/12)_

_Lou Singh: Showcased dagger skills (3/12) and edible plants skills (2/12)_

_Silky Ianis: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and trap-making skills (7/12)_

_Cloth Topper: Showcased spear skills (5/12)_

_Dressal Maddox: Showcased knife skills (6/12), spear skills (6/12), and dagger skills (2/12)_

_Velvet Reigns: Showcased spear skills (5/12) and gauntlet skills (5/12)_

_Angora Cards: Showcased throwing knife skills (4/12)_

_Rollag Hermes: Showcased knife skills (6/12) and agility skills (5/12)_

_Brigitta Channel: Showcased wrestling skills (9/12), sword skills (9/12), medical skills (9/12), and gauntlet skills (8/12)_

_Archie Walker: Showcased edible plants skills (4/12) and hatchet skills (1/12)_

_Sasha Grotrekk: Showcased slingshot skills (6/12) and spear skills (4/12)_

_Marble Congrutts: Showcased spear skills (7/12) and wrestling skills (3/12)_

_Threada Collins: Showcased bow skills (7/12), sword skills (6/12), and edible insects skills (3/12)_

_Crochet Undersee: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and spear skills (5/12)_

_Violet Savageau: Showcased dagger skills (2/12)_

_Indigo Savageau: Showcased dagger skills (3/12) and spear skills (1/12)_

* * *

**Dahlis Wheatford, 34**

**Escort for District 8**

The room is dead silent as the tributes pile onto the long purple couches. There are three couches, placed behind one another and elevated slightly like rows of seats in a movie theater. The careers are silent in anticipation and uncertainty, and the untrained tributes are silent in what must be fear.

"Are you guys and girls ready to find out your training scores?" I ask in a cheerful tone.

A few of the tributes let out low murmurs of confirmation. I'm disappointed at the response, but I don't want to run into the announcement by trying to engage them, so I let it drop. One of the tributes, Wyatt, told me that I need to drop things more often. He was probably just being cheeky, but I'm still under the impression that each tribute has my best interests at heart.

The holographic screen shimmers into existence, and the tributes seize up in anticipation. I lean back in my seat, taking the first deep drink of my furious cocktail.

"Hello guys and gals of Panem! It's me, your master of ceremonies: your Phoenix Withers! As you all know, the 48 tributes of Districts 5 and 8 have been ranked from one to twelve based on their aptitude in training. Without any further ado, let's get to the scores!"

_Cosima Shaffer, District 5 1st Female – 10_

Cosima nods and hums slightly, satisfied.

_Preston Richards, District 5 1st Male – 8_

Preston wrinkles his mouth, evidently disappointed by the score.

_Lilith Mercier, District 5 2nd Female – 4_

The girl buries her face in her hands. Another girl, Vida, tries to console her.

_Hector Starling, District 5 2nd Male – 7_

Dawson and Thred, both of Hector's allies, pat him hard on the back.

_Henna Norcross, District 5 3rd Female – 9_

Henna, the last career until Electron, raises her arms into the air in celebration.

_Edison Rye, District 5 3rd Male – 6_

Edison's eyes open wide in surprise.

_Vida Aslin, District 5 4th Female – 4_

Vida warbles slightly as tears begin to pour from her eyes.

_Felix Landers, District 5 4th Male – 8_

The room breaks into noise, with the other tributes clapping and the careers staring daggers at him; a great score for the strong 18 year old.

_Genera Coover, District 5 5th Female – 3_

Genera stares down at her injured arm, her mind in a very different place.

_Wyatt Kluss, District 5 5th Male – 4_

Wyatt nods, unsure of how to react to a 4.

_Tasha Spark, District 5 6th Female – 3_

Tasha begins shaking hard. Her brother Burnie places a hand on her knee, trying to steady her shakes.

_Burnie Spark, District 5 6th Male – 4_

Tasha envelopes Burnie in a big hug.

_Ashleen Verbeck, District 5 7th Female – 2_

That's definitely a surprise, as Ashleen had one of the best costumes at the tribute parade.

_Nelson Griffiths, District 5 7th Male – 3_

Nelson buries his head in his hands and shakes is slowly back and forth.

_Francina Damige, District 5 8th Female – 4_

Francina twirls a blue streak of hair around her finger, evidently let down.

_Dawson Brisk, District 5 8th Male – 6_

Dawson smiles, satisfied with a 6.

_Moxie Cratchit, District 5 9th Female – 5_

Considering Moxie is only thirteen, that's a decent score.

_Thred Curtis, District 5 9th Male – 7_

Thred's ally Hector claps, and Thred smiles, satisfied.

_Sybil Occing, District 5 10th Female – 7_

Sybil, similarly impressed by her own score, sucks in a quick breath.

_Looper Wattson, District 5 10th Male – 3_

Looper rubs the back of his neck, anguished.

_Everly Fless, District 5 11th Female – 4_

Looper smiles at her, and Everly starts sweating and tugging her hair.

_Electron Davies, District 5 11th Male – 11_

The room falls silent, with everyone staring at the muscled academy student. The careers are staring with envy and the weaker tributes are staring with terror. I doubt any other tribute will be able to match his score.

_Nimona Tissel, District 5 12th Female – 7_

Nimona receives a few compliments, but goes pretty much unnoticed in the aftermath of Electron's impressive score.

_Boltson Howcroft, District 5 12th Male – 8_

That gets a bigger response, with Felix and Sybil patting him on the back.

"And now onto District 8!" Phoenix Withers exclaims, briefly smiling at the screen.

* * *

**Miranda Coakum, 28**

**Escort for District 8**

An anticipation-filled silence envelops the room as Boltson's score is read off. The spinning District 5 seal behind Phoenix morphs into the needle and thread representing District 8.

_Organza Evernight, District 8 1st Female – 10_

The career girl grins, proud.

_Madras Kestler, District 8 1st Male – 10_

The tall boy shares a contented look with Organza. Organza looks more than a little peeved that her set partner managed to match her score.

_Patternia Veil, District 8 2nd Female – 11_

The room falls quiet, and we can hear Electron stamp his foot from the floor below. Patternia just smiles and crosses her arms in a secretive sort of way, looking smug.

_Needle Rhys, District 8 2nd Male – 2_

Needle just stares at the screen with wide, tired eyes.

_Lily Cardigan, District 8 3rd Female – 3_

The 12 year old girl thumps her foot on the ground, squeezing her eyes shut.

_Damon Malone, District 8 3rd Male – 5_

Damon looks pretty indifferent, and a few of the other tributes nod: an average score for District 8.

_Flossie Peller, District 8 4th Female – 1_

Flossie nods slowly from her wheelchair. She looks so exhausted.

_Linen Topher, District 8 4th Male – 3_

Linen looks down to his lap, let down by his score.

_Lycra Torren, District 8 5th Female – 8_

The room bursts into applause, and the careers stare daggers at the unassuming 17 year old girl. That certainly came out of nowhere.

_Lou Singh, District 8 5th Male – 2_

Lou's lip quivers as his eyes begin to turn red.

_Silky Ianis, District 8 6th Female – 7_

Silky's ally, Sasha, smiles and hugs her. Silky just grins, pleased.

_Cloth Topper, District 8 6th Male – 5_

Cloth nods at Damon, the only other tribute with a score of 5. Cloth is already in an alliance, but he definitely has a sort of camaraderie established with Damon.

_Dressal Madox, District 8 7th Female – 5_

Dressal bites her lip, unsure of how to respond to a 5.

_Velvet Reigns, District 8 7th Male – 5_

Velvet high-fives each of his allies (Cloth, Dressal, Marble, and Crochet). I only realize afterward that the high-five is a reference to his score of 5.

_Angora Cards, District 8 8th Female – 4_

That's more standard fare for an inexperienced tribute.

_Rollag Hermes, District 8 8th Male – 6_

All of Rollag's allies, Hector, Dawson, and Thred, are from District 5. We hear them cheering and stomping from the upper floor.

_Brigitta Channel, District 8 9th Female – 9_

Everybody stares at the attractive, muscled peacekeeper's daughter. Brigitta herself looks pretty stoic, accepting her score with satisfaction.

_Archie Walker, District 8 9th Male – 4_

Archie smiles, but whimpers slightly at the same time.

_Sasha Grotrekk, District 8 10th Female – 3_

Sasha shrugs, and then adjusts one of her colorful bobby pins.

_Marble Congrutts, District 8 10th Male – 6_

Cloth and Velvet cheer, slapping Marble on the back. Dressal and Crochet compliment him verbally.

_Threada Collins, District 8 11th Female – 7_

The first 7 since Silky, everyone claps for the wiry factory worker.

_Crochet Undersee, District 8 11th Male – 6_

More applause. A smile seats itself deep on Crochet's face as his allies congratulate him.

_Violet Savageau, District 8 12th Female – 2_

Violet buries her face into a pillow. Even in comparison to Ashleen, Needle, and Lou, she's definitely the weakest tribute other than wheelchair-bound Flossie.

_Indigo Savageau, District 8 12th Male – 3_

Everyone watches awkwardly as Indigo starts crying too, wiping away his tears with the backs of his hands.

"Congratulations to the tributes for earning these stellar scores!" Phoenix announces. The program cuts to black, and every tribute is in a different mood as they retreat to bed.

* * *

**0:**

**1: Flossie**

**2: Ashleen, Needle, Lou, Violet**

**3: Genera, Tasha, Nelson, Looper, Lily, Linen, Sasha, Indigo**

**4: Lilith, Vida, Wyatt, Burnie, Francina, Everly, Angora, Archie**

**5: Moxie, Damon, Cloth, Dressal, Velvet**

**6: Edison, Dawson, Rollag, Marble, Crochet**

**7: Hector, Thred, Sybil, Nimona, Silky, Threada**

**8: Preston, Felix, Boltson, Lycra**

**9: Henna, Brigitta**

**10: Cosima, Organza, Madras**

**11: Electron, Patternia**

**12:**

* * *

**Titus Andronicus Bacchus Hazel, 45**

**President of Panem**

Phoenix Withers bends forward in a deep bow. The audience explodes with applause, and Phoenix stands back up, his blue hair swiveling around his heart-shaped face.

"Welcome one and welcome all, whether you have joined us in person or using the magic of television. Tonight, we will get to know each and every tribute a little better, as a three-minute interview is provided for each of them. First, we have the pleasure of hearing from Cosima Shaffer!"

Cosima waltzes onto stage, wearing a skimpy ruby-red skirt that flies up an extremely revealing amount when she twirls. Her interview is dripping with seductively, filled with flirty winks and butt shakes. The cheers of the audience are surprisingly low-pitched as she spins off of stage with a big smile.

Preston comes on next, wearing a meshed short-sleeve shirt that displays his sculpted upper form. The more perverted women in the audience cheer as he sits down and starts smiling. Preston is another seductive tribute, and he makes enough of the audience laugh to overshadow his low training score.

Lilith follows up two stellar tributes with an average interview. She shuffles onto stage in a lacy pink gown, barely able to keep balance in her heels. Her interview is heartwarming, but she's likely to be forgotten quickly in a swath of so many flashier tributes.

Hector is next, dressed smartly in a slate gray suit and tie. He easily enchants the audience, every bit as funny and endearing as his nemesis, Preston. Preston's only advantage is his more revealing outfit, while Hector has to rely on his face to keep everyone engaged.

Henna dashes onto stage garbled in a midnight-blue dress. She puts on a pretty average career showing. Henna is charming enough, but just doesn't live up to Cosima and Preston, her flashier friends. She makes a few jokes that make a good portion of het audience laugh, however. She'll definitely be a wild card in the games.

Edison follows Henna, dressed in a black tux. His interview turns out to be rather drab and uneventful. Phoenix questions him about his score, and Edison confesses it came from a mixture of tactical and survival skills. Most tribute go for the mysterious route when questioned about their score, so the boy isn't completely forgettable.

Vida shuffles onto stage wearing a navy blue suit that clings to her body. She starts crying as soon as she enters the stage, and she freezes halfway to the seat when the first spotlight shines on her. She stammers out only a few vague answers and looks enormously relieved when her three minutes is over.

Felix is Vida's polar opposite: tall and muscled rather than small and scrawny. Being equally memorable in appearance and demeanor, his interview is definitely one the audience will remember. His answers are somewhat short and concise, but the interview is still strictly satisfying somehow.

Genera walks onto stage wearing a white dressed with little polka dots. Her injured arm is her main point of conversation with Phoenix. The girl has a gift for public speaking, but the audience quickly dismisses her as a possible victor because of her injury. It doesn't help that everyone is still whispering about Felix either.

Wyatt makes a decent first impression, smiling confidently when he enters the stage in an all-white suit. He quickly loses his cool when he sits down in the seat, and all he can do is sweat and stammer furiously when it's his turn to answer Phoenix's questions. Such a disastrous interview is a disappointment for a tribute with such an impressive appearance, but so be it.

Tasha's interview is one of the most uneventful yet. The girl, who wears a sunshine yellow dress, isn't particularly nervous; she actually manages to talk to Phoenix in an extremely coherent way. However, her tone of voice is so drab and monotone that the audience quickly loses interest. It's a shame, because Tasha could have put on a memorable showing if only she'd been more impressive.

Burnie wears a sunshine yellow suit and black tie, and he is every bit as uneventful as his sister Tasha. His eyes bug out slightly as he steps onto stage, and he continues to cry throughout the interview, whimpering out only a few faint words in response to Phoenix's questions.

Ashleen has everyone talking when she shuffles onto stage in a baby blue gown. She and Nelson had the most popular outfits at the chariot rides, and everyone is intrigued by Ashleen's meager score of only two. Ashleen seems pretty confident and fixated throughout the interview. My guess is that she wasn't showing off her full potential in her private session.

Nelson is much less impressive, shuffling nervously onto the stage in a crimson blazer. He manages to build up some confidence, taking on a mysterious persona when Phoenix asks him about his score. He has his mind set on survival, which is smart.

Francina dances into the spotlight, wearing a light blue skirt that seemingly floats around her tiny frame. Francina has the audience enchanted the moment she opens her mouth, laughing and displaying her charisma for the entire audience. There's no doubt some eager sponsors are already on her side.

The audience's applause only begins to die down as Dawson enters, wearing a green dress shirt. He spends most of the time talking about how he met Hector, Thred, and Rollag, his allies. While he isn't particularly nervous, Dawson starts to ramble, and I only realize his interview is over when he stands up and leaves the stage.

Moxie follows Dawson, wearing a white silk dress that covers her legs completely. She quickly answers all of Phoenix's questions, and Moxie seems to have an overall enjoyable time onstage. It's no surprise she allied with Silky and Sasha. They're like three copies of the same girl.

Thred has a sob story written up by default. He instantly captures the audience's hearts by talking about his brother, who he volunteered for. Phoenix sits back and lets Thred talk for the entire three minutes, and the audience bursts into applause as Thred's interview reaches its teary conclusion. He'll definitely be a contender.

Sybil, the first anti-career since Felix, floats onto stage wearing a dark blue cocktail dress. For such an impressive tribute, Sybil's interview is surprisingly bland. She makes an effort to capture the audience's attention, but ultimately fails in the aftermath of two memorable interviews. She starts to get frustrated toward the end and raises her voice a little, which puts off most of the audience members.

Looper stumbles out of the wings dressed in an aquamarine suit and black tie. The youngest tribute so far, his feet barely touch the floor when he sits on the edge of the chair. The little boy manages to keep from crying in the interview, but his voice starts to warble when Phoenix asks him about his family. His interview is ultimately a success for a tribute so young.

Everly glides into Looper's place, wearing a white sundress and black heels. She has less success with keeping cheerful, and she starts crying around the second minute of the interview. Phoenix tries his best to cheer her up, but there's no consoling her, and she runs off of stage into Looper's arms.

Electron is a shoe-in for a memorable interview, and he does not let down at all. From the moment he enters the stage in Preston's meshed short-sleeve shirt, he has the audience enraptured by his charisma and his deep voice. The shirt shows off his bulging chest and arm muscles, and his dazzling white smile is enough to make most of the younger girls start screaming. He will be extremely dangerous, especially with so many sponsors on his side.

Nimona saunters out in a shimmering, holographic dress whose flashes look beautiful against her dark skin. She's the odd one out of the four-way girl alliance, so different in every way from Moxie, Silky, and Sasha. Her interview is relatively forgettable, though she does manage to impress with her spunk.

Boltson ends the District 5 interviews with a bang, wearing a black dress jacket with a tie tucked underneath. While he doesn't live up to Preston or Electron, he easily impresses with his charm and his charisma. His interview definitely earns a point for the anti-careers after Sybil's epic fail.

Organza opens District 8 with a satisfying, if not groundbreaking, interview. She flirts with the audience for a mildly comedic two minutes, though Phoenix steers the conversation toward her family when Organza starts to ramble. Given her appearance and her persona, Organza is a tribute I would place in District 1, though she isn't nearly as airheaded as some of the girls the luxury district provides.

Madras strides confidently onto stage dressed in a black tuxedo, beaming at the audience. He and Phoenix have a great dynamic, and they talk back and forth for most of the interview, pulling lots of laughs out of the audience. The entire audience cheers as the handsome ladies' man makes an exit.

Patternia sashays into the spotlight wearing a fiery orange dress and heels. She has the audience's attention captured by default, having scored an eleven despite her age of only sixteen. Patternia follows up Madras with an equally impressive interview, showing off her witty and fast sense of humor. She's at least one and a half feet shorter than the other eleven-scorer, Electron, but she's sure to pack an equal punch in the arena.

Needle follows two memorable interviews with a disastrous fail. From the moment the boy is shoved onto stage wearing a light grey suit, he shakes and cries loudly for his mother. The only words he can form are that he wants to go home so badly. The audience stares awkwardly as he cries into the backs of his fingers and then runs out of the spotlight.

Lily, who wears a spring-green skirt with sunglasses, manages to keep from crying or stammering for the entire interview. At one point, Phoenix feeds her a joke that makes at least a third of the audience laugh. Her interview isn't terrible, but is likely to be forgotten quickly.

Damon walks out next, dressed in a sunshine yellow suit and black tie. The look is okay, though the brightness of the suit is definitely off-putting. He puts on an average showing, forming coherent responses but using a boring, monotone voice. With only a 5, Damon is definitely forgettable, and he's only doomed himself further with such a drab interview.

The audience falls silent as Flossie rolls out of the wings in her wheelchair, wearing a lacy white skirt with a pink bow. Phoenix drops out and lets Flossie begin her long speech about blessings and not taking the simple things in life for granted. Her interview is heartwarming, but with a lower score than all 47 other competitors, there's no way she's surviving the bloodbath.

Linen is dressed in a navy blue blazer. His interview is another drab one, with lots of concise responses. His answers aren't even simple in an intriguing or mysterious way, just a boring way. With Flossie's soliloquy still on everyone's minds, Linen is virtually ignored by the audience. I find myself unable to remember a single memorable quote as he slowly leaves the stage.

Lycra shakes the audience awake after Linen's failed interview. Unlike the other high-scoring tributes like Felix and Brigitta, Lycra's impressive 8 came out of the blue. She takes on the classic mysterious route, telling the audience they'll just have to wait and see what she has going for her. Lycra isn't particularly charming, but she is certainly intriguing, and that's enough to make her interview memorable.

Lou comes out wearing a crimson red blazer that might be meant to represent blood. It would probably look great on a ruthless career, but it just looks out of place on the tiny 12 year old boy. Another nervous little kid, he gives short and shaky answers. He quickly dashes off stage to clear a spot for the next tribute.

Silky waltzes onto stage wearing a chartreuse dress, both impressively flashy and intriguing. Her voice is extremely clear as she gives long, detailed answers to each question. She isn't the strongest tribute in the history of the games, but with a decent 7, some smarts on her head, and some good looks, she might seriously have a chance.

Cloth runs onto stage and waves at the audience, wearing a red button-up shirt and khaki pants. He tries his best to come off as a charming comedian, but ultimately comes off as awkward and desperate as he makes random jokes about unrelated things. There are a number of awkward silences, which Phoenix manages to expertly fill. Cloth exits the stage blushing with embarrassment.

Dressal wears a thick dress with checkered squares of red and green, definitely the most unique outfit so far. Dressal manages to stay grounded throughout her interview, and her dialogue with Phoenix is more of a casual conversation than anything else. The casual, down-to-earth girl keeps the audience focused at the very least, which is more than many of the other tributes can say.

Velvet strides onto stage wearing a thick velvet jacket and leather shoes. He is the centerpiece of the Cloth-Dressal-Velvet-Marble-Crochet alliance, but fills his interview with uninteresting answers and a bit of bland humor. With everybody still thinking about Dressal, Velvet never gets much of a reaction at all.

Chubby Angora shuffles onto stage wearing a pea-green dress and hair piece. The moment she steps in front of the audience, she grabs her stomach suspiciously; the next moment, chunky brown bile spurts out of her mouth. The audience cringes, and Phoenix keeps the show going with a bit of light humor as two avoxes rush in to clean up the mess. A peacekeeper rushes the retching girl off of the stage, holding a bowl underneath her mouth.

The program resumes to feature Rollag, who wears a pristine white roman toga. Rollag spends most of the interview talking about the Roman gods, even though his last name, Hermes, is a Greek god. His ramblings are too nerdy for the audience's taste, and the boy comes off as more of a geek than a strong contender.

The audience sighs in anticipation as Brigitta strides confidently onto stage, dressed head-to-toe in a full peacekeeper uniform. She and Phoenix have a lot to talk about, from Brigitta's life with a peacekeeper father to what the uniform feels like. Brigitta ends her interview by shouting out a few of the head peacekeepers in District 8, thanking them for their service. She's a real patriot. We'll have to keep her around for a while.

Archie follows Brigitta, dressed in a plain navy suit with an aquamarine bow tie. Again, his interview isn't particularly disastrous, just bland and forgettable in a number of different ways. He manages to save the interview toward the end with a few memorable lines, but I still doubt he'll survive long.

Sasha makes an entrance, wearing a magenta wrap dress with a faint flower print. Sasha knows how to please a crowd, and she drops enough one-liners to keep the audience relatively amused. Other than her jokes, her interview is pretty thin. Not forgettable, just not a major standout.

Marble's interview is similarly average. He manages to make the audience laugh a couple of times, but ultimately sits there in his black suit answering questions without much variation. He looks supremely relieved when his interview is over, and so does most of the crowd.

Threada follows Marble, with much more success. Dressed in a bubblegum pink dress, she seems to be half daydreaming as she answers Phoenix's questions. She says she's good at hiding, good at hunting, good at healing. She can't be that good, because she only has a 7, but whatever she has going for her, she has a memorable interview.

Crochet wears a crochet-knit sweater and matching dress pants, as well as a hat made of yarn. It's definitely a unique costume that catches the audience's attention right off the bat. His interview isn't the best, with short and concise answers, but I can tell he'll be remembered because of his unique outward appearance.

Violet follows Crochet, wearing a light purple dress that covers her torso. Because she's only 12 and only has a 2, I immediately expect her to start crying, but she actually leads one of the better interviews for a young tribute. Violet is polite enough, and she manages to keep her cool while talking about the Capitol with Phoenix. Even when her voice starts warbling, it's barely noticeable.

The same cannot be said about Indigo, who ends the interviews with a lackluster finish. Indigo enters wearing a suit made of several different shades of blue, an interesting enough costume. He never exactly starts crying. In fact, he seems so focused on not crying that his responses are vague and distant. All of the comedy is forced, and everyone is relieved when the final buzzer sounds.

The audience roars as Phoenix stretches to full height. "That's all for tonight, folks. I hope you enjoyed all of these memorable moments with Cosima, Preston, Lilith, Hector, Henna, Edison, Vida, Felix, Genera, Wyatt, Tasha, Burnie, Ashleen, Nelson, Francina, Dawson, Moxie, Thred, Sybil, Looper, Everly, Electron, Nimona, Boltson, Organza, Madras, Patternia, Needle, Lily, Damon, Flossie, Linen, Lycra, Lou, Silky, Cloth, Dressal, Velvet, Angora, Rollag, Brigitta, Archie, Sasha, Marble, Threada, Crochet, Violet, and Indigo! Please tune in tomorrow morning at 6 o'clock, first for unabridged footage of the bloodbath, and then for my commentary over every single frame. Have a great night!"


	5. D5-D8: The Bloodbath

**A/N: And here's our first bloodbath! It's not terribly long, just because I don't want to include POVs of every bloodbath survivor, but I hope the ending gives you all a general scope of what went on. Tributes and alliances will be explored further as we continue. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Brigitta Channel, 18**

**District 8 9th Female**

I board my hovercraft alone. The moment I step into the cabin, I am assaulted by freezing-cold air conditioning. I jump a little as two peacekeepers drag me by the shoulders, and I blink hard as they steer me toward the chair that looks like an ancient torture device.

"Put your hands up and sit," they say, and I blink hard as they strap down my ankles and my waist, just to make sure I'm not going anywhere. The peacekeepers leave, switch off the light, and leave me alone.

I think back to everything my father has told me over the years. A peacekeeper is often afraid, but never lets fear get in the way of his duty.

_I won't pretend I'm qualified to give you advice about the games, _he told me in the goodbye room, _but I know you'll have to use both your mind and your body. You're such a strong girl and you have such a strong mind. Use them, and stay safe, my love._

I take a deep breath in and out as the hovercraft lifts off. The only light comes in through a small window on the left wall. The Capitol looks extremely scenic from above. In a matter of seconds, it's gone, and all I can see are the large, snow-capped mountains in this distance.

I'm headed to the arena now. I could die there. But a peacekeeper doesn't allow herself to die. I'm not going to die. I won't allow it.

The ride lasts for at least three hours. It's a smooth journey with only minor turbulence. I won't say it's over before I know it, but it does go by surprising quickly. I have so many things I'm thinking about right now.

Two peacekeepers enter when the hovercraft lands. One of them points as gun at my head and the other one unstraps my bonds. I focus on the thin crack of light shining in from the edges of the door when my heartrate increases again. I won't panic. I won't let myself panic.

"Put your hands behind your back and follow us. There are two guns pointed at you," one of the peacekeepers growls. I follow quickly behind. The door that I entered through is now connected to a downward-slanting hallway with an accordion rubber seam. The peacekeepers turn on a harsh light and lead me down the stairs. The door slams behind me the moment I enter the launch room.

Then it's only me, a seat, a cookie machine, and a hook with my uniform. And the glass tube running straight through the center of the room.

* * *

**Lilith Mercier, 15**

**District 5 2nd Female**

We call this the stockyard back in District 5: the place where animals go before they're slaughtered.

I shiver despite the room's oppressive heat and then take a peach-flavored cookie out of the dispenser. It's only when I try to put the cookie in my mouth that I realize how much I'm shaking. My arms are shaking, my head is shaking on my neck.

I want to cry right now. I want to cry so badly. I want to just curl up and cry until someone comes in here and forces me into the tube.

The only thing keeping me from doing that is the knowledge that I'm probably being watched.

I run into the small changing nook and put on my tribute uniform: a forest jacket, jeans, and plasticky black boots. Then I jog laps around the room. Warming up is a sign that you're ready, right?

I'm tempted to keep shoving cookies into my mouth, but I don't want to crash in an hour, so I content myself with one more pumpkin flavor and then sit down with my arms crossed.

"Sixty seconds until launch," a robotic female voice announces.

I find myself unable to move for at least five seconds. I know I have to step into that tube, but my body itself is holding me back.

"Fifty seconds until launch. Forty seconds until launch." I finally force myself to move with about thirty seconds left on the countdown. The moment I step inside, the glass opening seals shut behind my back.

In a matter of seconds, I stand at ground level, surrounded by deep green grass and a faint, cool wind. The clearing stretches on for at least half a mile before the dense forest starts up. Smoke churns from six locations placed sporadically around the forest. Each pedestal has a line of flowers connecting it to the cornucopia, creating a shape like a wagon wheel with 48 spokes.

_60, 59, 58, 57, 56, 55, 54, 53, 52, 51._

My first instinct is to head into the bloodbath. That's what all of the other tributes seem like they're planning to do. Most of them are already leaning forward.

_50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 42, 41._

Then I start to notice the placements of the tributes. Felix is to my left, the tall and muscled boy who scored an 8. Patternia stands to my right, the most cold-hearted psychopath out of the career pack. If either of them decides to target me, I'm dead. Period.

_40, 39, 38, 37, 36 , 35, 34, 33, 32, 31._

Moxie, Nimona, and Sasha are lucky enough to have their pedestals near each other. Silky is at the other end of the pedestal ring, desperately attempting to communicate with her allies via hand gestures. I notice the anti-careers crowded together, with Felix, Sybil, Brigitta, and Threada only spaced apart by one pedestal. The gamemakers made sure to spread out the strong tributes. That way none of the weaker tributes, like me, are safe. At first I can't see Boltson, but then I spot him at the far end of the ring, next to Lou and Everly. Everly's boyfriend Looper stands two pedestals to my left.

_30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24, 23, 22, 21._

And, of course, the seven careers are spread out evenly. Cosima and Henna hug the left end of the pedestal ring; Preston and Patternia are more toward the middle; Organza, Madras, and Electron are spaced only a few pedestals apart at the rightmost end of the line.

_20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11._

Something deep within me calls for me to race into the bloodbath. I want to run into the fray so badly. Then I remember Felix and Patternia, and turn around so I face the distant forest.

_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1._

The gong rings, and I race off of my pedestal without looking back. It's less than five seconds before I hear the first screams, the first noises of bodies hitting the ground. I don't look back. I don't look back as the chorus of screams becomes deafeningly loud. I don't look back when I start to pick up on the stench of blood. When I reach the first line of trees, I take a quick peek backward. The cornucopia is already out of sight, concealed by a tall hill. Unseen, I disappear into the darkness of the forest.

_Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!_

That's twenty-one cannons. There are only twenty-seven of us left. Fifteen of us need to die before this first stage can end. There are a rough few weeks ahead, but as I settle down for a short break, I start to seriously appreciate the fact that I've survived the bloodbath. There are twenty-seven tributes still kicking, and Lilith Mercier is one of them.

* * *

**Bertram Kerler, 5**

**Capitol Citizen**

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Bertram, happy birthday to you!"

I put on a big smile and blow out the five candles on the light blue birthday cake. Mom offers to help me blow them out, but I can blow them out by myself because I'm a big boy now.

Dad cuts the cake and gives everyone a big slice, then scoops some ice cream for everybody. It's my favorite kind of cake, but I try to finish as quickly as I can. That's because the bloodbath starts in fifteen minutes, and I don't want to miss it.

"Can we watch the games now, Mom?" I ask, licking the frosting off of my fingers.

"You should wait for Aqua to finish his cake. You can play with Uriel if you want."

"I want to play too!" Aqua shouts, leaping off of his chair. "I'm finished with my food. I want to watch the games with Uriel and Bertram."

Aqua's mom rolls her eyes. "Okay. You boys have fun."

We race to the living room and pile onto the couch. Uriel's dad is also on the couch, drunk and asleep. We just ignore him and turn the television on.

"Who do you think will make the most kills?" Aqua asks. "I think it'll be Madras."

"No, it'll be Electron," I say.

"It's going to be Preston," Uriel says.

"No. It's going to be Electron. He's the strongest," I say.

"Shhh!" Aqua hisses. "The bloodbath is starting!"

The gong rings, and the tributes run off of their pedestals. The careers are the fastest, obviously. Electron grabs a sword and tackles 12 year old Lou, who tries to run away but can't run fast enough. As Electron puts the sword in his back, Patternia throws two throwing knives at Violet and Indigo. One of them misses, but the other one hits Violet in the back of the neck. She falls to the ground, choking and dying and everything, and Indigo kneels next to her. Another career, Madras, approaches and stabs a spear into Indigo's neck. He's dead right away.

At the same time, the peacekeeper's daughter, who has a sword, attacks Henna from behind. Brigitta and Henna fight for a little while with swords. At first, I think Henna is going to win, but then Brigitta knocks her sword away, and Henna screams loudly as Brigitta's sword pokes out of the back of her neck. Brigitta scoops up another pack and runs for her life. Madras throws his spear at Brigitta, but misses and hits tiny Lily instead.

"I told you Madras would get the most kills," Aqua says. "He's already in the lead."

"Yeah, with two kills," Uriel says. "Preston will catch up soon. Look at him now!"

Cosima and Preston, who both have spears, attack the three tributes who are inside of the cornucopia: Dressal, Marble , and Angora. Dressal and Marble are part of a bigger alliance, but Angora is all by herself. Angora is the first tribute to die as Cosima puts her sword through her chest. Dressal and Marble try to fight back. Eventually, Marble punches Preston in the chin. Marble and Dressal try to run, but Cosima closes in, spearing Dressal through the gut before she can run far enough.

Marble runs away as fast as his legs can carry him, but he runs straight into Electron, who has his sword ready. Marble screams and holds his hands in front of him, but he can't protect himself from Electron's cool sword. Electron cuts his abdomen open with two heavy chops, killing him.

A second later, Electron hears a sound behind him, and he turns around. There are two tributes standing there, Tasha and Burnie, and they're both trying to kill him from behind. The brother and sister can't react fast enough before Electron cuts open both of them, spilling out their gross insides.

"Electron is winning now," I say, crossing my arms.

"Shut up," Uriel says. "Preston is just taking a little break."

Aqua jumps to his feet. "Mom! Mom! Uriel said shut up!"

My eyes stay trained on the television as Patternia makes her next kill, throwing two knives into tiny Genera, who wasn't going to survive very long anyway because of her injured arm. Organza makes the next kill, gashing the back of Wyatt's neck open with her spear. Wyatt falls to the ground, shaking like a dying fish, and Organza keeps poking holes in his back until he stops moving.

Aqua runs back into the living room and falls on the couch. "Uriel's grounded for ten minutes. Now, who's winning?"

"Electron," I say. "He has four kills. Cosima, Madras, and Patternia have two kills. Organza and Brigitta have one kill."

Organza's one kill changes to two kills. A boy, Nelson, starts to run away from the cornucopia, but Organza chases after him, pushing her spear into his back. Nelson falls down, and he knocks over another tribute, Damon, as he falls. Damon squirms out from under Nelson, but he can't run far before Madras closes in on him, swording him to death.

Patternia, who's starting to run out of throwing knives, throws one knife into Linen's back, who I honestly forgot existed up to this point. Soon after that, Preston makes two kills at the same time. He kicks Vida to the ground, and she holds her stomach because the air was knocked out of her. He pushes another tribute down a millisecond later, Archie, then stabs his spears into both of them one after the other. Vida and Archie die at pretty much the same time.

The cornucopia field is emptying fast. The big alliances of boys, Cloth, Velvet, and Crochet, are far away from the cornucopia now. The only alliance left besides the careers is Hector, Dawson, Thred, and Rollag. The four of them have lots of backpacks. They run away as fast as they can, but Electron chases after them, cutting Hector's back open with his stabby sword. Electron tries to keep running after them, but they run fast because they're scared. Eventually, Electron turns around and goes back to the cornucopia, grumbling bad words.

"Which one of you said that?" Aqua's mom shouts from the kitchen.

"Electron from TV!" I shout.

Patternia makes her fourth kill. She trades out her throwing knives for two long hunting daggers, and she quickly attacks Edison, who's been trying to find a way to escape without being noticed. Edison doesn't see Patternia until it's too late. As Edison falls, Madras attacks little Needle, who only scored a 2. Needle is dead pretty much right away, and Madras runs away, smiling.

The careers, Cosima, Preston, Electron, Organza, Madras, and Patternia, gather together at the cornucopia, waiting for the cannons to go off. The cannons don't go off. Then they see why. Flossie, the wheelchair-bound girl with the lowest training score, is just laying there on her pedestal, crying. I guess she wasn't allowed to bring her wheelchair into the arena. The careers don't want to kill her, but they can't stop Electron, who just runs up to her and stabs her in the back. Flossie dies without even flinching, and then the twenty-one cannons go off.

"Am I un-grounded yet?" Uriel says from the kitchen.

"Yes," his mom says. Uriel rushes into the room just as a list of the dead tributes appears.

* * *

_Hector Starling, District 5 2nd Male_

_Henna Norcross, District 5 3rd Female_

_Edison Rye, District 5 3rd Male_

_Vida Aslin, District 5 4th Female_

_Genera Coover, District 5 5th Female_

_Wyatt Kluss, District 5 5th Male_

_Tasha Spark, District 5 6th Female_

_Burnie Spark, District 5 6th Male_

_Nelson Griffiths, District 5 7th Male_

_Needle Rhys, District 8 2nd Male_

_Lily Cardigan, District 8 3rd Female_

_Damon Malone, District 8 3rd Male_

_Flossie Peller, District 8 4th Female_

_Linen Topher, District 8 4th Male_

_Lou Singh, District 8 5th Male_

_Dressal Maddox, District 8 7th Female_

_Angora Cards, District 8 8th Female_

_Archie Walker, District 8 9th Male_

_Marble Congrutts, District 8 10th Male_

_Violet Savageau, District 8 12th Female_

_Indigo Savageau, District 8 12th Male_

**Remaining Tributes (27): Cosima, Preston, Lilith, Felix, Ashleen, Francina, Dawson, Moxie, Thred, Sybil, Looper, Everly, Electron, Nimona, Boltson, Organza, Madras, Patternia, Lycra, Silky, Cloth, Velvet, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	6. D5-D8: Day 2

**A/N: Sorry this took like 57854293 years. I sort of explained things in the latest chapter of Shattered. Thanks for sticking around, though, and for being concerned. It means a lot that you've been reaching out to me. Hopefully, I've returned for good.**

**Here's the second day of our tale! I probably won't be including a point of view of every single tribute every single day, at least not right now. There are just so many tributes. Don't worry, their numbers will thin quickly. I have some devious tricks up my writer-ly sleeves (laughs maniacally). Anyway, please enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Rollag Hermes, 16**

**District 8 8th Male**

Dawson gathers kindling as we travel along the deer path. The path is definitely forged by something other than a deer, but Thred likes to call it a deer path. We've been travelling for less than an hour when we come to a large clearing with a pile of rocks in the center.

"It looks like a big turtle shell," Thred says.

I tilt my head. "It looks like a pile of poop."

Dawson rushes up behind us, arms piled high will small splinters of dry wood. He dumps everything onto the ground and sighs in relief.

"Seriously?" Thred says. "It isn't even noon yet. Why would we need firewood?"

Dawson wipes the sweat off of his forehead. "In case we can't find any later. It's good to be prepared. Think we're a safe distance from the cornucopia yet?"

"I think so," I answer. "Definitely a few miles at the very least. We should all take a drink."

Thred grudgingly hands over his thermos of water and lets Dawson and I take a big sip each. "That hits the spot. Anyone got food?"

Dawson and Thred both shrug. "I could look around," Dawson says. I nod, and he sprints away, quickly disappearing into the forest.

I don't want to lose the poop pile, so I think about leaving a little trail of rocks around it in case we get lost. Then I realize that makes it about a hundred times more likely for the other tributes to pick up on our trail, so I don't bring it up. Without anything to eat, Thred and I just lean against the poop pile and stare at the sky.

"You know, Sparky liked deer."

I blink hard. "What?"

"My brother. I volunteered for him." Thred rests his hands on his stomach and sighs.

"I'm sorry."

He actually laughs. "Well, we're on the same boat now. You and I and Dawson. We're family now."

I think about that for a while. I'm about to say something, but then Dawson bursts into the clearing, arms piled high with black berries.

"Where'd you get those?" Thred asks, incredulous.

"From a bush about half a mile north of here. Now eat up, before they go bad."

I pinch a berry between my fingers and roll it back and forth. Something about a black berry puts me off, but I quick taste tells me they're nothing but harmless blackberries, so I start gobbling up. Thred and Dawson wait about a minute before they start eating, just in case I die on the spot. I do not die on the spot.

If Dawson wanted to, he could have added a tiny bit of poison into these little fruits and killed both of us, but right now I'm too hungry to care.

* * *

**Nimona Marks, 18**

**District 5 12th Female**

"Are… we… there… yet?" Moxie gasps, groaning as we tread up the steep slope.

"Almost," I say. "You can rest when we get to… the top. All this will pay off."

I can't blame Moxie for being so exhausted, seeing as she's carrying the most weight. But the three of us have our own supplies too, and we're not complaining.

"Seriously, Nimona," Silky pants. "We need… to take… a break."

Sasha nods her head in agreement, and I figure it's useless to keep fighting back. I trek about ten more feet to a large rock and grab hold of it, then lie down on my stomach. Moxie and Silky follow my lead.

"Careful, Sasha," I say. "You need something to hold onto when you stop. As soon as you stop walking, you're going to slip. And it's a long way down."

Sasha nods and grabs onto a thick root, using it to keep her from slipping, then lies down on her front. I carefully pry my fingers away from the rock, and the three other girls follow my example.

"We've come a long way," Silky notes, peering down. "Are you sure there's anything at the top of this hill?"

"No," I admit. "But we'll have the best view from up here. We'll have the high ground."

"I guess that is pretty valuable," Sasha says.

We lie there in silence for at least another half hour. Soon enough, Moxie is snoring. I want to stay here forever too. But we have to keep moving.

"Five more minutes," I say. "Then we move. We're vulnerable down here."

I carefully stand up after much more than five minutes, then start walking upward. Moxie, Silky, and Sasha grudgingly follow. It's less than five more minutes before the ground flattens off. The top of the hill.

Silky laughs will relief. "It's like I haven't felt flat land in a million years. Say, Nimona, have you looked down yet?"

"No," I say. "I guess I was saving it for this moment."

"Well, that moment is right now."

I close my eyes, turn slowly around, and then open them. The view from up here is stunningly beautiful. The forest below is like a thick green carpet stretching out to the arena's circular boundaries. A small clearing, the size of a coin from this height and distance, houses the ant-sized cornucopia. "Told you it'd be worth it," I whisper.

In reality, I'm a little underwhelmed. I was hoping to find some kind of reward up here.

Moxie points to a smoking structure in the distance. "I've been wondering what that smoke has been coming from. It's a lava pool. Definitely worth exploring at some point."

She's right, even though the prospect of trekking all the way down this giant hill any time in the near future is off-putting.

"Why would there be lava in a forest?" Sasha asks.

I shrug. "Because the gamemakers put it there. There's got to be something valuable in that area. Something we can use."

Moxie yawns. "I'd love to find something that we can use. For now, honey, I'm going back to sleep."

"Me too," Silky agrees, slowly collapsing.

"Me three," says Sasha. As they doze off, I sit cross-legged on the grass and look over the arena, lost in thought.

* * *

**Felix Landers, 18**

**District 5 4th Male**

It's unavoidable that five large tributes moving through a dense forest will make at least some noise. Even so, I'm peeved by how loud and clumsy the others are, especially Sybil and Threada.

It only bothers me because of how much experience I have moving quietly. My family were some of the few citizens who still hunted in District 5, sneaking past the fake security cameras and climbing fences to reach the open desert that separates our district from the swelled ocean.

The land was never luscious, per se, but there was food if you knew how to find it. Moving quietly through brush, rocks, and sand directly translates to moving quietly through a forest. Turn your back to prickly brush. Avoid staying anywhere that doesn't have at least two fast exits.

Our hunt brings us to a sheltered place, the hidden spot tucked between two conjoined hills. It doesn't completely shield us from sight, but it's the best shelter we're getting. The five of us settle down as the sun starts to fall.

"How do you feel about food?" Boltson asks.

"I'd love some," Sybil responds.

Boltson rolls his eyes. "I mean, first, how much do we have, and second, do we need to hunt for some."

"If you're hunting animals, I'm your guy," I say.

Brigitta crosses her legs and hums slightly. "Hunting animals during the first few days isn't a good idea. It's too messy, and then you have to start a fire. Maybe it's better to feed a group of our size off of berries. That is, when our bloodbath supplies run out."

We continue to argue for at least five minutes before Sybil suggests we just sit down and relax for a while. Threada sits down first, then Sybil, then Boltson, then Brigitta. I sit down last, leaning against the hill and lacing my fingers behind my head as a pillow. "You know, this place is pretty…"

"Shhh!" Brigitta hisses. "I hear something."

We immediately fall dead silent. The noise of footsteps over grass is extremely faint, but it's definitely there. Something prickly settles in my gut, and for a moment I'm too terrified to even reach for my hunting knives.

"Please don't kill me! Just leave me alone!" a little girl screams.

The rasping voice of a career boy, I don't know which one, laughs. "How about you set down all of your supplies and then we'll let you go. We'll even give you a little head start."

"How about no!" shouts the little girl, her voice quivering.

The five of us glance back and forth between each other. They're all probably thinking what I'm thinking. If we stay dead silent, we might be able to remain unnoticed. Just maybe.

The small girl's silhouette sprints into view a short distance away, trailed behind by the six-strong career pack, weapons drawn. The girl yelps as one of the careers, who I recognize as Madras due to his willowy silhouette, grabs her by the scruff of her neck like a kitten. She kicks and screams, desperately trying to escape. Before long, she's completely surrounded. The moonlight clearly illuminates her stringy blood as it flies in all directions.

"Who was that?" Madras asks, glaring down at the girl's still form.

"I don't know," a girl, Organza, says, kneeling. "Never mind. It's Ashleen. Look at her red hair."

"You know, I would have liked to give her a little head start," Madras laughs. "It would have been amusing to watch her try and run."

Patternia stares daggers at him. "Yeah, and what if she did escape?"

"We'd find her anyway," Madras says, shrugging. She only had a 2. It isn't like…" Madras suddenly falls dead silent. "I think we've hit the jackpot."

"Run!" Threada screams, and I bolt for my life, weaving back and forth with the careers in hot pursuit. In the moonlight, I can see the other anti-careers sprawling out in all directions. I bump into a body, and I let out a short yelp, thinking it might be a career. But the yelp that comes out of her mouth is Threada's. I don't have time to apologize, or to do anything but keep running.

Adrenaline powers me forward like gas in a peacekeeper jalopy, and my blood runs cold when I hear the first scream. I take a moment to glance over my shoulder. Sybil is completely cornered, trapped between Preston and Patternia without her weapon. It must have been stolen from her.

"Fuck off," Sybil grunts, punching Preston in the mouth with her fist. Preston reels, obviously surprised by her strength, but Patternia doesn't let her fury distract her from her ultimate goal. She throws her knives straight into Sybil's chest, and it's literally less than five seconds before her cannon fires.

How are the others doing? I can barely make out the form of Boltson running twenty feet to my right. I hear Brigitta's grunts vaguely behind my back. As for Threada, I haven't seen her since she screamed for us to run. All I know is she isn't dead. I haven't heard another cannon yet.

"Stop running!" Boltson hisses. "We're making too much noise!"

I careen to a stop, head slamming forehead-first into a tree. Hot blood drips down my forehead. I bite my lip as Brigitta barrels into sight, and the three of us lie down on the earthy ground, watching from a distance as Threada fights for her life against the careers.

"You're… going… to… regret… this," Threada grunts, swinging her sword back and forth. Her first few blows are powerful, even managing to send Organza cringing backward, cursing as blood flies from her chin.

I hardly dare to breathe as Boltson, Brigitta, and I helplessly watch the fight play out. In ten minutes, hardy Threada makes her first lethal strike, swinging her sword into Cosima's chest. Cosima screams and stumbles backward, landing on her bottom and clutching her wound with both hands. Preston glances at her as if debating whether or not to help, then turns back toward Threada. Cosima is clearly beyond saving.

The careers grow even more savage when Cosima's cannon shot fires, sending chills down my spine. Finally, Threada fights her way out of the career group. They curse and chase after her, but soon Threada is gone, having disappeared into the thick of the forest.

"Let's go," Brigitta suggests, a note of fear in her voice. The three of us turn around and run, abandoning Threada to the forest and leaving the careers angrier than ever before.

* * *

**Looper Wattson, 12**

**District 5 10th Male**

"How are you feeling?" I ask, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Not very good," Everly says as I run my fingers over the dozens of small scrapes and bruises along my arms. "I've never seen a forest this thick, and dark, and scary."

I nod. "It's okay to be scared. We'll be out of here soon. We just need to hold out until there are twelve tributes left. Then this stage is over. Just like that."

I snap for effect, which doesn't resound well with Everly, who starts crying.

Finally accepting that I can't really calm her down, I wrap my arm around her. "Take a deep breath. There are some tough times ahead. But right now, all that matters is that we're safe and warm right here, right now."

The anthem sounds, and I peer through a gap in the roof of our small branch shelter, glaring tiredly at the three girls that moved on today.

* * *

_Cosima Shaffer, District 5 1st Female_

_Ashleen Verbeck, District 5 7th Female_

_Sybil Occing, District 5 10th Female_

**Remaining Tributes (24): Preston, Lilith, Felix, Francina, Dawson, Moxie, Thred, Looper, Everly, Electron, Nimona, Boltson, Organza, Madras, Patternia, Lycra, Silky, Cloth, Velvet, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	7. D5-D8: Day 3

**A/N: Hello again! The tribute count dwindles once again as the third day passes in our arena. I'm not sure how long each games will last, but the games involving career districts will definitely go by a lot quicker.**

* * *

**Lycra Torren, 17**

**District 8 5th Female**

The forest looks beautiful this morning, the many various trunks shooting and twisting into the sky, all connecting to the conjoined canopy of leaves. My backpack thumps familiarly between my shoulders as I run. It's the only think that's familiar anymore.

I think back to yesterday evening, when I spotted the careers walking near my camp. I didn't have any time to gather up my supplies. It was literally all I could do to sling a single backpack over my shoulder and run for my life.

I don't think they spotted me, but now they know the general region of the forest I currently inhabit. And maybe most terribly, I'm no longer carrying a single drop of water with me. Finding more water is my number one priority. Otherwise, I have one, maybe two days until I'm dead. Full stop.

The sun is at its peak in the sky when I spot a thin line of smoke spinning into the sky. From the cornucopia, I could see several of them, but this is the nearest I've ever been.

Instinct tells me to turn around and run, but now I'm too intrigued to turn back. It isn't long before I feel heat pulsing in waves from the source of the smoke. I see the ledge of the pit dropping off before I can see what's inside. Peering over the edge, all I can see is darkness in the depths of the hole.

I back away from the hole and slowly set down my pack. The heat is already starting to melt the plastic straps, and I don't want it falling off.

Returning to the hole, all I can see is darkness. I grab a rock and throw it in. The rock slowly sinks beneath the line of blackness, revealing a thick mass of crimson as it sinks. It's lava, and it's hot.

The sound of something crashing through the forest brush makes my heart jump into my throat. Figuring I should get away from the lava pit in case it's some kind of attacker, I disappear behind the first line of trees and wait.

A small girl walks slowly out of the trees, alone. Her movements are slow and sluggish; whether from dehydration or hunger, I can't tell. Is it… Lilith? Yes, it's her. Lilith walks to the very edge of the pit and stands there, so close to the ledge that her toes touch the edge.

I've burst out of hiding before I can stop myself. I know I'll regret this as soon as I'm finished, but I find my limbs moving without my brain's permission. Lilith whips her head around, but I've pushed her into the pit before she has time to scream. Her body slowly sinks beneath the lava's black surface, revealing the fiery inner hell underneath. The thick, molten rock engulfs her body slowly. For a moment, there's a small dent in the surface, as if a bucket of the thick liquid has been scooped out. In a matter of minutes, all traces of Lilith's existence are gone.

I'm about to leave when the sound of sliding metal comes from behind my back. It's a table, slowly rising out of the ground, and it contains two small objects: a shimmering golden sphere and a silver flower. Two words are carved into the base of the table: _choose one_.

Oh, no. The gamemakers are using this trick again. My choice will wreak havoc on a random part of the arena. This trick hasn't been used in decades, but it's back again. And this time, the decision lies on me.

How will I wreak havoc? With gold or silver? The ground starts to rumble: the gamemakers' cue for me to hurry up. I touch the golden sphere, and the table sinks slowly into the ground. Then there is only silence.

* * *

**Crochet Undersee, 18**

**District 8 11th Male**

Dark clouds begin to roll in as Cloth, Velvet and I tread quietly through the forest. The frightening weather is sudden: ten minutes ago, the sky above was spotless and clear.

"How'd these clouds roll in so fast?" I ask, not really expecting an answer.

"It's got to be some trick of the gamemakers," Velvet says. "We need to get to shelter as soon as we can."

Cloth nods in agreement and breaks into a moderate sprint, the two of us trailing close behind. The sky seems to twist into a darker shade of gray every second, slowly masking the brilliant blue of the summer sky. Velvet suddenly stops dead in his tracks, pointing a finger at the sky.

"What?" I ask.

"It's centered around us," Velvet stammers, shaking. Just then, the first bolt of white-hot lightning shoots out of the sky, connecting with the ground just a few trees away. The ground shakes, and five trees simultaneously topple away from the site of the lightning strike.

"Run!" Cloth screams, and the three of us break into a mad run as bolts of lightning shoot out of the sky like fingers. After twenty seconds, a tree in our path is struck. Pieces of flaming debris fly in our direction, landing on my chest. For a moment, the scalding pain drives everything else out of my mind, a pain that I think is going to worm its way down into my skin and kill me from the inside out, slowly spreading through my body. But Velvet grabs me by the arm and tugs me along.

"There!" Cloth screams, pointing at a rushing gray river just ahead.

"It still isn't safe! The water will get hot!"

Cloth shakes his head. "No. Look at the cave on the other side!" He points to a large, rocky hill at the other end of the river. A wormhole about the diameter of a train is carved into the mountain.

Burning branches fall and clouds of smoke billow as we ford the river. Once, a branch catches onto my back, scraping a long gash in my skin. A cloud of dark blood spreads around me, and I want to scream. I want to give up and let the river carry me away. But right now, I can't let myself focus on anything but the cave. If I can get there, I'm safe.

Velvet steps out of the water first, with Cloth and I following close behind. Velvet leaps into the cave, instantly disappearing in the pitch-black interior. Cloth dives in next, and just as I'm about to enter, the ground vibrates underneath my feet.

A lightning bolt has struck the top of the hill. Now a tide of debris—dirt, plants, fallen trees—rushes down the hill in my direction. I have to make a split second decision. There's no way I'll have time to reach the cave without being crushed by the falling debris.

"Get away!" Velvet and Cloth scream from the safety of the cave's interior. "Hurry! Quick!"

I take one last look at the cave, then, turning around, race along the edge of the river as fast as I can in search of some other shelter.

* * *

**Patternia Veil, 16**

**District 8 2nd Female**

"What's with that big storm?" Preston asks, pointing to the tempest on the horizon.

"I don't know," I say. "But I don't think it's coming for us. Let's go hunting."

"No." Electron stamps his foot on the ground. "I hate to say this, but we need to wait here until it dies down. It's not worth the risk."

"Yeah, it is worth the risk," I retort. "The tributes will all be off-guard after the storm. Weak. Easy to put on a show with."

Electron crosses his arms. "Well, if you want to go by yourself, go right on along. I'm not coming with you, not risking my life because of a fucking stupid hunch!"

"Guys! Shut up!" Organza shouts. "There's lightning now."

The five of us fall quiet and watch as the first arc of lightning shoots out of the sky. A moment later, thunder rumbles for the first time. Organza raises her eyebrows. "There's no way we can go hunting in that."

I hate to agree with her, so I don't say anything, just sit down on my sleeping bag and cross my arms. I pass my throwing knives between my hands and drum my fingers against my thighs as the hours pass. No cannon shots fire, and sooner than later, the storm is clearing.

"Alright," Electron says. "Let's go. Madras, it's your turn to stay behind."

Preston, Electron, Organza and I gather up our weapons and supplies, then each take a big sip of water before sprinting away from the horn. "Hold on," I say, pausing after less than ten seconds. "Look at that hill."

Electron squints. "Which one?"

"That one." I point to the tall hill in the far distance. "There are tributes up there."

"Holy shit, you're right," Preston admits, smiling. "Four of them. It must be those girls: Moxie and Silky and Sasha. And Nimona."

"If we're fast, we might be able to surprise them," Electron says. "Now hurry, Patternia."

"I am hurrying!"

"Shut up again!" Organza shouts, and that's the end of that.

Two hours of jogging takes us to the base of the hill. There's always the risk that the four girls have left the hill by this point, and we came all the way here for nothing. But that's a risk worth taking for the prospect of four victims.

"We should take a break," Preston suggests. "We need our energy to get up that hill."

The four of us sit down, our backs leaning against the same thick beech tree. The slope of the hill is an almost perfect 45-degree angle; a treacherous journey, even for us.

After about fifteen minutes, we stand up and start running again. Preston starts to lag behind as the top of the hill gets closer and closer, and the four of us are panting with exhaustion. But it'll be worth it. It'll be so worth it.

We pause when the crest of the hill is a short distance above our heads. "I'll go first," I say. "And I'll throw my knives at the first thing I see."

Preston, Electron, and Organza grudgingly kneel on the slope while I continue walking. I pause just below the crest of the hill, then take a quick peek over the edge. The four girls are sitting in a circle, eating from a shared basket of food.

In one motion, I burst into sight and hurl a volley of two knives. Both of them land in one of the girls' shoulder blades, and she screams instantly. My allies burst into sight as two of the weak girls run for their lives. One of the girls kneels beside the dying girl, crying, "Moxie! Moxie! Talk to me!" When Moxie's cannon fires, she makes a desperate attempt to run for her life. However, she turns just as Preston's spear enters her gut, and she collapses onto the first girl, falling still almost immediately.

"Two down, two to go!" I cry out as we rush to the edge of the hill. The girls we didn't kill, who look to be Sasha and Nimona, are literally rolling down the hill, bouncing and crashing over rocks and roots in their descent.

"We'll never catch up," Preston laments, shaking his head.

He's right, we won't. Even if we rolled like them, we'd probably end up killing ourselves with our own weapons by accident. I begin to walk toward the two dead bodies.

"Who are they?" Organza asks.

I turn their bodies over to reveal their faces. "Moxie and Silky. They died right next to each other. How cute." I roll my eyes.

* * *

**Threada Collins, 17**

**District 8 11th Female**

It's been over twenty-four hours since I was separated from the anti-careers. Twenty-four hours that I've been completely alone in the forest.

I'd like to say I've been brave enough to explore and search for my allies, but that just isn't true. All I've been doing is slowly travelling in a single direction since then. I might as well stop thinking about them right now, because there's no way I'm getting them back.

I come to a stop when the sun begins to glisten on the west horizon. Water is my first priority now. I need to try my hardest to find it before sunset or else I'm doomed.

It starts to get noticeably dark within twenty minutes, and I still haven't found anything to drink. My throat feels like sand by this point, and real fear starts to set in. A faint quaking sensation in my gut for the time being. I'm sure it will soon escalate.

I settle down at the base of a medium-sized hill, a place hidden from sight by a curtain of willow trees. The ground here is muddy and soft, which means water must be nearby. Night stars sparkle overhead, and I lie down on my side, my hands as my only pillow and my clothes as my only source of warmth as frost begins to form on the tall grass.

Worrying about water is for tomorrow. For now, what I need is sleep.

I'm just about to doze off when the anthem begins. I open my eyes slightly and glare at the three faces, all of them girls once again. There are twenty-one of us now. Nine of us need to die for the others to move on. I don't feel anything for those poor kids. The games are already changing me.

* * *

_Lilith Mercier, District 5 2nd Female_

_Moxie Cratchit, District 5 9th Female_

_Silky Ianis, District 8 6th Female_

**Remaining Tributes (21): Preston, Felix, Francina, Dawson, Thred, Looper, Everly, Electron, Nimona, Boltson, Organza, Madras, Patternia, Lycra, Cloth, Velvet, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	8. D5-D8: Day 4

**Boltson Howcroft, 17**

**District 5 12th Male**

"Is Threada a lost cause yet?" Felix asks.

"I think so," Brigitta answers. "We've been searching for days. If she's nearby, we'd have found her by now. It isn't like we can't stumble upon her by accident later in the games. Right now, we need to be hunting. Nine more deaths to go before we're out of this place."

I nod, following Felix and Brigitta down the path. I had a thing for Threada, and the thought of her curly hair makes something ring deep down inside me. Having lost her makes me really sad. She hasn't been in the death recaps yet, and there haven't been any cannons today. That doesn't mean she isn't slowly dying.

I take a deep breath. It's best that I stop worrying right now. The three of us are safe, at least for now. There will be a time for worrying and that time is not now.

As noon arrives, we stop for lunch. The package of dinner rolls Felix grabbed from the bloodbath has run out completely. Now we have to rely solely on the arena for our food. And sponsors, of course, but we've gotten virtually no sponsor gifts since the bloodbath.

The sponsors are probably biding their time, waiting until later on when each individual tribute has more of a chance.

"How's this for lunch?" Brigitta says, pointing upward.

"What?" I ask.

"They're apple trees." Brigitta jumps up and grabs one of the thick green fruits in her hand. It breaks off of the branch easily.

"Last time I checked, apples are red," I say.

"That's when they're ripe. When they first grow, they're this green color." Brigitta takes a big bite. "Delicious. Now you two get your own."

Felix jumps into the air and falls back down much less gracefully than Brigitta. There is no apple in his hand. I try not to laugh, because it's my turn next. It's at least a minute before Felix pulls down a tiny green apple. I manage to snatch one on my second try. "Not bad for a beginner," Brigitta murmurs as I take the first bite.

"You know, these apples aren't that bad. I would totally…"

"Shhh!" Brigitta interrupts. Felix and I fall quiet instantly. I let the apple chunk in my mouth fall quietly into my hands. A crashing sound comes from just ahead, but it isn't very loud. The bodies must be small. At first I think it must be a deer or some other kind of animal. Then the two little kids run out of the trees.

Looper and Everly, I think they're called. Definitely boyfriend and girlfriend. The moment they see us, they turn around and run for their lives, screaming.

"Do we chase them?" I ask.

"Of course!" Brigitta and Felix shout in unison, grabbing their weapons. "Now come on, hurry!"

* * *

**Dawson Brisk, 15**

**District 5 8th Male**

Thred, Rollag, and I continue to tread along the deer path as the fourth day passes. The path is completely straight and has been going on for at least ten miles. I wouldn't be surprised if we've crossed the entire arena by this point.

Thred brings his thermos of water to his lips. Nothing comes out. He bangs on the side of the thermos, forcing the last few drops down into his mouth.

I'm out too, so I shrug. Rollag has been hiding his last half-thermos of water from us for days. Neither of us brings it up.

"We need to find water," I say, and Thred nods rapidly in agreement. "We're dying. Literally."

"Well, I'm not dying," Rollag says. "You can hold out for another hour while we hunt."

"We can hunt after we find water," I say. The word "water" itself feels like heaven in my mouth.

"What is that?" Thred shouts.

At first I think he means water. Then I see what he's pointing at: a dead body, completely still on the ground.

I wrinkle my face. "Is she alive?"

Thred kneels and feels the girl's wrist. "Her heart's beating. And she's breathing."

"Hey, we talked to her in the training center," Rollag says, moving her hair aside to reveal her face. "Her name's Threada Collins. You guys deal with her. I'm searching for water."

Thred pulls out his knife. "Well, this will be quick."

"No." I'm surprised by how firm I sound. "We aren't killing her."

"Yeah, we are." Thred rolls his eyes. "Get away."

"Hey Dawson! Thred!" Rollag shouts. "While you were busy arguing, I saved our fucking lives and found a river!"

Thred sighs. "Fine. We'll give her some water and see what happens."

We run toward Rollag's voice and fill our thermoses with water from the river. Part of me expects the water to be poison somehow, but I find myself feeling nothing but refreshment as I chug down the clear liquid.

We return to Threada's still (but alive) body, and I pour a little bit of the water into her mouth.

"Not so fast," Rollag says. "You'll drown her."

Thred looks like he'd like her to drown, but he doesn't say anything as the girl sits up suddenly. "Where… who are… uhhh."

"I know. You need to keep drinking the water."

It's only a few minutes before she's standing and moving around. "I know you guys. You're Rollag. And you're Thred." She points at me. "And you're Dawson."

"Yep, I'm Thred," Thred says. "And I just saved your life."

"No you didn't," I say. "I did."

"Thanks." Threada still looks a little off. Her gaze looks pretty distant. She jogs a short distance away to pee, and Thred stares daggers at me.

"We hardly have enough food as is," Thred grunts. "The last thing we needed was a fourth person. I'm going to kill her."

"No, you're not." I point at the nearest camera. The Capitol will love us for this. It'll be the cutest thing in history. They'll love this."

Thred rolls his eyes, but something about the way his arms slack tells me that I've won the argument. "Fine. But I won't be the one to give up part of my ration."

* * *

**Cloth Topper, 18**

**District 8 6th Male**

Velvet and I have been searching for Crochet I don't know how long. Ever since the lightning storm forced him away, it's been a constant search on our parts. It's exhausting, sure, but we have a duty to put a decent effort into this.

"It's time for a break," Velvet says as we step into a small clearing. I nod in agreement and sit cross-legged on the ground, rested my chin in my hands. This feels really nice.

"There's literally nowhere else he could have gone," Velvet says, running his fingers through his hair. "We've searched everywhere he could have covered last night."

"He must be still moving," I say. "Maybe he's antsy. Or maybe the gamemakers sent some other threat in his direction."

Velvet shakes his head. "There's no way. We would've seen something. Or heard something."

"Either way, I need a wash. We may as well stick close to the river. That's where Crochet would be."

The river wash isn't nearly as relaxing as I imagined. For one thing, the water feels to be the first thing above freezing. From the moment I dip my toe below the surface I know this will be a struggle. Several rocky objects from the bed of the river dig into my skin, making my feet bleed.

Afterward, I don't feel clean at all. I just feel wet, cold, and sore.

Velvet seems at least somewhat rejuvenated afterward, and I'm glad for him, but I can't deny that my spirits are sinking as we continue the search for Crochet Undersee.

* * *

**Sasha Grotrekk, 14**

**District 8 10th Female**

Nimona and I are pretty quietly as we trudge through the dense forest. It's been hard to think of things to talk about since Moxie and Silky both died within the space of one minute. They're all I can think about.

"How much food do you have?" I finally ask. My throat feels like sandpaper and my stomach feels like a cold, empty cave.

"An apple. And I'm not sharing." Nimona crosses her arms.

"Come on. Just one bite?"

"No. Not one bite. I'm not responsible for your survival." She makes a good point, so I shut up.

It's less than ten minutes when I perk up. The thumping sound is faint, but it's definitely there. Nimona has definitely heard it as well, because she stops dead in her tracks and lowers her arms.

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you think?" I whisper.

"I don't think it's anything serious. Probably a harmless mutt," Nimona says. "But we should duck down just in case."

Not fast enough. Just then, an older girl bursts out of the trees, shaking. Her hair is dyed a million different colors and she has a tattoo on either side of neck.

"The careers. They're nearby," the girl pants. It's only when I've remembered her name, Francina, that I hear the sound of more footsteps. Francina, Nimona, and I crouch down, lying flat on the ground.

Panic races through me. I try hard not to breathe, and the force of so much suppressed air pushes against the inside of my mouth until I eventually have to open it. If Francina is telling the truth and the careers are near, there's no way we have time to escape. We just have to hope they don't see us.

I'm confused when four career tributes come into sight; I'm pretty sure there are five of them left. Then I remember one of them is probably guarding the horn. The careers travel quickly, and there are two tiny tributes running in front of them. They're the prey. The careers are the predators. And the prey run far too slow to have a chance at survival.

"Leave us alone!" the little boy shouts, and the little girl lets out a scream as Patternia tosses a throwing knife. It nicks her neck, leaving a small red mark.

The little girl claps a hand to her neck and stumbles, falling onto her knees. She hisses in pain and tries to get back to her feet, but she isn't fast enough. One of the career boys, Preston, has a sword, and the boy can't sidestep fast enough before the sword is skewered straight through his neck.

"Looper!" the girl screams. "Looper!"

"They always shout the names," Organza mocks, circling the little girl. "Like that'll bring him back to life."

Sooner than later, the four careers have Everly completely surrounded. She spins in a circle, holding out her arms and screaming at the top of her lungs. When Looper's cannon sounds, they dive in, and I can't tell who lays the first mark on her.

"Run!" Francina hisses. She quickly stands up and bolts away as fast as her legs can carry her. Nimona follows close behind. I only find the energy to move when Everly's cannon booms.

* * *

**Madras Kestler, 17**

**District 8 1st Male**

"Well. We only made two kills today." I bring my knees to my chin.

Patternia scowls, then continues to sharpen her knives. "And it was only those two little kids. We have to do better tomorrow. We have to."

Electron raises a fist, and he looks like he wants to shout some choice words at the girl he hates for some reason. But then Organza gives him the stink eye, and he falls back.

"When's that damn death recap going to come on?" Preston asks, continuing to stare at the sky. "It must be midnight by now."

As if on cue, the faces of the little boy and girl shine in the sky amidst the blaring anthem.

* * *

_Looper Wattson, District 5 10th Male_

_Everly Fless, District 5 11th Female_

**Remaining Tributes (19): Preston, Felix, Francina, Dawson, Thred, Electron, Nimona, Boltson, Organza, Madras, Patternia, Lycra, Cloth, Velvet, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	9. D5-D8: Day 5

**Electron Davies, 17**

**District 5 11th Male**

"I can't believe you dumbasses," Patternia scoffs, putting up her feet. "You never deserved to volunteer."

"Jeez Patternia, you need to calm down," Madras says, rolling his eyes. "We're all exhausted. So are you and you know it. Preston's ankle is fucking sprained. We need a rest day."

I'd really like to be hunting right now, but I'm just too exhausted for that to be a possibility. I stretch out my legs and recline backward so I'm practically lying down. We all have our individual nooks inside the cornucopia. Madras' and Organza's are tucked into the back corners. Mine is in the empty space underneath a big empty shelf. Patternia and Preston are out front, their sleeping bags sitting in small clearings within the field of scattered supplies.

"Speaking of Preston, how's that sprained ankle coming along?" Madras asks. For a ruthless career, he's pretty nurturing when it comes to his friends.

"Well," he says. "Everything is back into place as far as I can tell. The stabbing pain is only an ache now, but it's fading."

Patternia raises her hands in outrage. "What do you mean, it's fading? You tripped thirty hours ago and fell a whopping four fucking inches. You have the energy to move around?"

Preston sits up, clearing pissed. "For your information, ma'am, that tiny four inches was enough to force my ankle bone out of its socket. Gravity is a thing that exists. You're a moron."

Patternia stands up and clips her belt of throwing knives around her waist, then snatches up her hunting knives and her backpack. "If you retards are too lazy to go out hunting, then I'm going by myself. Fuck you lot."

"Have fun," Preston says in high falsetto, waving whimsically as Patternia sprints away.

Madras sighs. "That girl is a demon child. We've got to kill her."

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Organza asks. "She's annoying as fuck, but you can't deny she'll put up a fight, even if we ambush her somehow. She has an eleven."

If I'm being honest, I have literally no idea how Patternia earned that eleven. I was the only other tribute to earn an eleven, but at least I have strength and skill on me. I'm guessing her private session involved more than a little nudity. That's the only explanation I can come up with.

"She isn't going to put up a fight," I retort. "There are four of us and one of her. Well, three, if Preston has to sit out."

"I won't," Preston says. "I heal fast."

"Anyway," I continue. "Nighttime is our best bet. We can knock her out quickly if we play our cards right."

Just then, the first cannon of the day fires. Preston, Organza, Madras, and I fall completely silent. Less than a minute later, another cannon fires. And less than a minute after that, there's a third cannon.

"Wow," Madras says, incredulous. "How many are left now? Sixteen?"

I take a deep breath. "Yep. But is Patternia Veil part of that number?"

* * *

**Brigitta Channel, 18**

**District 8 9th Female**

Felix and Boltson quietly snore behind me while I sleepily stand guard. We devoted this entire morning to hunting, and now we're too exhausted to do anything but sleep. I'd love to be sleeping as well, but duties are duties. If I've learned one thing from having a peacekeeper as a father, it's that duties must be fulfilled at any cost.

My first hint that somebody is coming is the swarm of birds. There are at least twenty of them, and they come flying out of the trees in one cloud. Clearly, their roosting place was agitated.

Should I risk waking up Felix and Boltson? When I hear the noise of something crashing through the thick forest, I quickly turn around and shake both of them awake.

"Grab your weapons," I whisper. "And be dead quiet."

We immediately fall into formation, with Felix on my left and Boltson on my right. Kneeling down, we're in a position to either stand up or lie down at an instant's notice.

There's silence. And more silence. At least ten minutes of silence.

"Are you sure…"

I don't have time to breathe. The throwing knife appears out of nowhere, shooting out of the dark forest and landing squarely in Boltson's chest. My mouth opens wide as Boltson falls to the ground, gasping and then screaming. Blood pours in a fountain from the gaps around the knife, fresh and dark.

Patternia bursts out of the trees, brandishing a hunting knife in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. A trill of icy cold panic runs through my body, and for a moment I'm tempted to run for my life. But it's my duty to fight until my dying breath.

"Move! Move!" I shout, but Felix is frozen in place. His eyes are fixed on Boltson's corpse. Before he can sidestep, Patternia tackles him, forcing him to the ground. Felix screams, and I glance back and forth between Patternia and safety.

"Help me! Brigitta! HELP!" Felix's wrists and ankles are pinned down, and Patternia grins as she traces the blade of her knife across his cheek. "HELP! HELP!"

I charge toward Patternia's back. I figure she must be alone, because if she was accompanied by the other careers they would have appeared by now. My sword is too large to use at this close range. I pull out the dagger I haven't used since I grabbed it from the bloodbath.

I raise the dagger, holding it above the back of her neck as she continues to torture Felix. Patternia finally gets tired of playing with her food. I momentarily freeze in place as she brings down her hunting knife, letting it sink into his neck. He immediately stops thrashing, and his cannon fires.

This is the moment. It's either now or ever. Patternia turns around and grimaces as she faces me. Then, before I realize what I'm doing, I've forced the dagger downward. It lands in the soft part of her shoulder, jamming through her flesh and then sinking slowly.

The career girl roars and jumps to her feet, kicking me hard in the chest. Winded completely, I curl up and clutch my chest, unable to move from the agonizing pain: like fire. As I squirm and cry out from pain, I clutch onto the hope that I've injured Patternia to a lethal degree.

"You bitch. You absolute bitch."

Patternia is standing up now, but her knees are wobbling. Her shirt is completely stained with blood on both sides.

"Yep, That's me," I say. Then she collapses.

* * *

**Preston Richards, 17**

**District 5 1st Male**

"It should be midnight by now," Organza says impatiently. "Do you think Patternia will come back?"

"Who cares?" Madras asks. "But for what it's worth, I hope not. I think she's dead."

There's a long silence after that, a long waiting. We're all waiting for the death recap. Three cannons fired today. As the silence stretches longer and longer, I build up the urge to break it.

"I want to try and walk now," I say.

Madras rushes to my side. "I can help you stand up if you want."

"I think I'm fine." I use my hands to push myself up to a crouching position. Then I stand up, feeling almost completely normal. There's a slight aching in my ankle, sure. But other than that, I feel fine.

The anthem suddenly sounds, and I rush to the mouth of the cornucopia. I hiss at the sudden pain in my ankle, but I'm too distracted by the death recap to care about that for long.

Felix and Boltson died today. And so did Patternia.

"That's two anti-careers down," Organza says. "And Patternia. Thank Snow and Hawke she's off of our backs."

* * *

_Felix Landers, District 5 4th Male_

_Boltson Howcroft, District 5 12th Male_

_Patternia Veil, District 8 2nd Female_

**Remaining Tributes (16): Preston, Francina, Dawson, Thred, Electron, Nimona, Organza, Madras, Lycra, Cloth, Velvet, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	10. D5-D8: Day 6

**Sasha Grotrekk, 13**

**District 8 10th Female**

The thick canopy of leaves creates almost absolute darkness in this area of the forest. Francina, Nimona, and I sit in a tight circle. Still, I can hardly see them. Nimona blends in especially well, her dark skin and hair melting straight into the shadows.

"Want to play a game?" I ask. We've been sitting here in silence for almost an hour and I'm desperate to break the silence.

"What kind of game?" Francina asks, her voice laced with confusion.

"Best and worst days," I say.

"What's that?" Nimona asks, also confused.

"I just made it up. Basically, you say the best and the worst day of your life. Nothing after the reaping is allowed because that would be cheating. You go first."

Nimona sits in silence for a while, not responding.

"Well, if you have to think about it that long, it wasn't really your best day," I say. "Let me go first. Best day: when I was adopted. Worst day: when my parents died." It's a straightforward answer, but it makes enough sense.

"Well, I don't think I have a day that bad," Nimona says. "But I woke up one morning and there was a dead body right outside my house. He was literally just dead. There was no blood or anything. We called a peacekeeper and the guy was carried away. We never saw him again."

Francina shuffles into a different position, clearly unnerved. "How did he die?"

"We never found out," Nimona says. "His eyes were so empty. Like the windows of an abandoned house. Anyway, best day. When I got to sit at the cool table in seventh grade. I felt bad for the friends I used to sit with. But when you're invited to a better lunch table, there's really no turning back."

"Wow, that's kind of lame," Francina says. "As for my best day… uh… I was thirteen when my parents finally let me dye my hair."

"You really went overboard with that," I say. I can see the streaks of blue, green, pink, and yellow from all the way over her.

Francina nods. "Yeah. Worst day was when I squeezed a packet of dye too hard. It exploded all around the bathroom. The stains are still as vivid as paint on the mirror and the counter."

"Why did you squeeze it?" Nimona asks.

"I don't know," Francina admits, laughing. "It was just really jiggly."

Francina hands around her thermos of water, and we each take a sip. Refreshed and relaxed, the three of us stand up and continue our nomadic path through the woods.

* * *

**Thred Curtis, 18**

**District 5 9th Male**

I honestly can't believe this crap. This is a death game, not a garden for romance. If I could, I would kill Threada right now. But that's a sure-fire way to be either kicked out of the group or murdered in my sleep. I try to remind myself that it isn't a big deal; there's plenty of time left for her to die in the coming stages. But something about her presence still irks me in a way I can't describe.

Dawson shivers, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "When did it get this cold?"

"Last night," I say. "It's still early morning. It'll probably warm up later."

Threada wrinkles her mouth. "I don't think so. The weather has been a bit too nice as of late. With the exception of that giant lightning storm. But that's not important."

"I bet it was important to the tributes who were caught in it."

Rollag rolls his eyes. "You two need to shut up. Now hurry up. The grass is getting greener. There's totally some sort of river coming up."

I shiver as the first gust of biting cold wind hits me. "If there is one, I bet it's frozen."

"There's no way," Rollag says. "And even if there's a thin layer of frost, it'll be easy to bust through."

Our conversation drops off as we continue our path through the woods. The grass underneath is crunchy with a thick layer of frost. I don't have a right to complain. I'm the only tribute outside of the careers who volunteered for all of this.

The four of us are all shivering by the time we come to the river. It's thin enough to be crossed with one long step, and at least half a centimeter of liquid is frozen on the surface.

Threada stamps her foot on the surface, but it only cracks up slightly. "Damn, this is tough," she groans as she continues to stomp on the seemingly thin layer of ice.

The four of us have to stomp for at least fifteen seconds before my foot flies right through the surface. Freezing cold water floods into my shoe, and I yank it backward, completely numb from the fiery cold pain.

Dawson kneels next to the hole and dips his thermos underneath the surface, letting the container fill with water. Dawson takes a sip and then spits out the water.

"Damn. Damn, that's cold. We have to wait for it to warm up."

Dawson crosses his arms and holds it close to his body. Meanwhile, Rollag, Threada, and I fill our own containers with water. My fingers start to turn blue when they've been touching the thermos for only five seconds. "This water has got to be below freezing. I've literally never felt anything this cold."

Threada shrugs. "The gamemakers have probably tampered with it. Now it's time to find out if it's poisoned as well." She brings her thermos to her lips and takes a sip, cringing as it passes her teeth.

Threada coughs, pounding her chest twice. "Well, it's definitely clean, but we'd better wait a little while longer for it to warm up."

* * *

**Brigitta Channel, 18**

**District 8 9th Female**

All of the others are gone. Felix and Sybil and Boltson are dead, and Threada is probably at the other end of the forest by now.

This morning is freezing cold, cold enough to make my teeth chatter. I see myself as relatively hardy, but I can't deny that this cold weather makes me want to curl up on the ground and cry. The cold temperature is almost painful.

Which makes it all the more surprising when I feel the first blast of heat.

Knitting my eyebrows in confusion, I take a single step forward before stopping in my tracks. Through the frost-covered trees, I can make out a thin trail of smoke up ahead. Another wave of heat hits me, giving me the energy to keep moving forward.

I'm too enraptured to keep track of the time. It might be a minute, it might be an hour when the heat becomes consistent: a solid wall of warmth that seeps into my bones. A sigh of relief involuntarily tumbles from my lips.

I stop myself at the ledge, a single step from tumbling into the pit of lava. A small pebble flies out from under my foot and lands in the dark pit. The pebble breaks through the black surface, revealing the glowing crimson lava underneath.

What's even more surprising is the girl curled up at the edge of the pit.

I move closer to the girl, and I notice that all of her fingers are black from frostbite. I recognize her purple face as Lycra, the girl from my district who scored an eight. A small bottle is clamped into her fingers. Reading the label gives me chills despite the warmth issuing from the pit.

_Take these orally to numb the pain. It'll all be over soon._

The story pieces itself together in my mind. Lycra was dying from frostbite and was drawn to the warmth of the pit. But the damage had already been done. There was no getting better.

I feel for her heartbeat just like my father showed me. She's alive. I've got to put her out of her misery.

I shove my arms around her torso and slowly drag her to the ledge, then push her over. She wobbles back and forth over the ledge for a few seconds, then disappears from sight. A cannon fires the second her body hits the surface of the crimson lava.

A rumbling sound comes from behind me, almost like the noise of a whirring engine. I turn suddenly around, frozen in place as the small marble countertop rises out of the frost. Two words are carved into the marble: _choose one._

I move my eyes back and forth between the two figurines on the countertop: a silver crescent and a sphere made of blue crystal. The silver crescent is carved with exquisite attention to detail. I pull the crescent close to my face to get a better look at the repeating patterns carved into the surface. When I pull my eyes away from the small object, the countertop is completely gone. I've made my choice. Which tributes will suffer because of it?

* * *

**Cloth Topper, 18**

**District 8 6th Male**

One moment, I'm walking on solid ground. The next moment, I've been knocked straight off of my feet, tumbling down a steep slope. In my rolling descent, I catch a few glimpses of Velvet. It isn't until I reach the bottom of the slope that we knock straight into each other.

"What happened?" I ask, rubbing my head.

Velvet shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Wait," I say. "We're in a big hole." It isn't just one slope: the land slopes upward in all directions, leading down to the point where we stand. Small twigs line the perimeter of the hole, pointing inward. They seem to be suspended in midair.

"Look, Velvet." I point at the twigs. "What are those for?"

Velvet's face suddenly falls, and he begins crawling out of the hole. "Those aren't sticks!" he shouts. "Those are metal bars! They're trapping us in here!"

A trill of panic rushes through me as the bars begin to grow, moving toward the center of the hole. "We need to get out!" Velvet hisses. "Come on!"

Adrenaline rushes my limbs with energy, but the snow is just too crumbly to climb anywhere near high enough to reach safety. Just as I come near the surface, I tumble backward, landing at the bottom of the hole amidst a torrent of dirt and frost. By the time I regain my balance, the bars have closed up. We're completely trapped.

"Holy fuck."

"Yeah. Holy fuck."

The net of metal bars is moving downward now. In a matter of moments, it is pressing down on the top of my head, and I have to crouch down to keep from being crushed.

Velvet and I share a terrified look. In that moment, I realize we're doomed.

* * *

**Crochet Undersee, 18**

**District 8 11th Male**

I've been travelling along the river for days. It's the only thing that brings me life and hope now that I'm all by myself.

The moment the lightning storm separated me from Cloth and Velvet was the moment I realized just how vulnerable I really was. Up to that point, I had felt safe, but only because of numbers. When Dressal and Marble were alive, I remember being almost completely fearless.

Now that I'm all on my own, I find myself constantly glancing over my shoulder, jumping at every slight sound. Paranoia is setting in. Lack of clean food isn't helping.

I continue travelling well into the night. By the time I'm too exhausted to continue travelling, the cold has returned: a chilling, biting cold that completely consumes me in a matter of minutes. When I collapse onto the frosty grass, I'm too exhausted to pay much attention to the death recap.

Then I see the faces of Cloth and Velvet. They're dead too, along with Lycra. There are thirteen of us left. Only one of us needs to die for this stage to be over. As I think about Lycra, Cloth, and Velvet, how they might have died, I feel absolutely nothing inside. The games are changing me.

* * *

_Lycra Torren, District 8 5th Female_

_Cloth Topper, District 8 6th Male_

_Velvet Reigns, District 8 7th Male_

**Remaining Tributes (13): Preston, Francina, Dawson, Thred, Electron, Nimona, Organza, Madras, Rollag, Brigitta, Sasha, Threada, Crochet**


	11. D5-D8: Finale

**A/N: And so we reach our final twelve. Any surprises, any disappointments? Let me know in the reviews. I love those things, love them! Even just a "cool" makes me supper happy. I won't reveal which two districts are up next, but I'd like to hear your speculations ;)**

* * *

**Preston Richards, 17**

**District 5 1st Male**

I wake up before all of the others. I glance at the moon through the cornucopia's transparent ceiling. It must be about three in the morning. There are thirteen tributes left. I just need to kill one of the other careers. It doesn't matter which one. Then I'm out of here.

Using my hands to quietly push myself to a standing position, I turn my head slowly around the cornucopia. Organza is silently asleep to my left. Madras' chest slowly rises and falls to my right. Electron is snoring softly in the far corner.

Nobody is guarding. Nobody is awake: except for me, of course.

My ultimately familiar spear feels alien in my grasp. I haven't used it to kill an ally yet; only outliers. I can't afford to think about this. I don't have the time. I turn quickly to the left and bring down the point of the spear. I feel the point slowly sink into her chest, and I feel the spray of hot blood on my legs. Then the cannon fires, and Organza's face shines in the sky.

_Organza Evernight, District 8 1st Female_

"Preston Richards, Francina Damige, Dawson Brisk, Thred Curtis, Electron Davies, Nimona Marks, Madras Kestler, Rollag Hermes, Brigitta Channel, Sasha Grotrekk, Threada Collins, and Crochet Undersee, you have survived the first stage of the fortieth Quarter Quell, the one-thousandth and final Hunger Games!"

I may not be the strongest tribute the games have ever seen, and I may not be the fastest, but I'm sly and I have some smarts on my head. That may just be enough to carry me through the next stage.

* * *

**Francina Damige, 18**

**District 5 8th Female**

I honestly never expected to make it this far. I'm pretty sure I have the lowest score of any of the twelve survivors other than Sasha. But honestly, who am I to complain? Thirty-six of the kids I saw in the training center are now dead, their families now cursing my name for surviving in their place.

I doubt I'll be able to make it very much further. But hey, you never know. An unforeseen change of events, a tidal wave of sorts, may carry me closer to the victory.

* * *

**Dawson Brisk, 15**

**District 5 8th Male**

I'm honestly pretty nervous as the hovercraft rescues me from my prison. I know I'm not completely helpless; I have a six, which is better than Francina and Sasha can say. But I know there will be some strong competition ahead, even more so if I happen to make it to the third and final stage.

The odds are clearly stacked against me, I'm aware of that. Winning this thing may be difficult, but I'm ready to do whatever is necessary to pick my way out of this mess.

* * *

**Thred Curtis, 18**

**District 5 9th****Male**

Well, here I am, where I never dared to hope I would ever be. Once the entire first stage is over, only 72 of the 288 tributes will remain. It's depressing, the way the Capitol views us. Like plastic bottles, old takeout containers to be thrown away without a second thought.

But I've made it this far, so I suppose I have no right to complain. Now, it's the best I can do to focus on riding my way through the next stage. Then I might be able to see my family and Button again.

* * *

**Electron Davies, 17**

**District 5 11th Male**

I have no idea what gave Preston the nerve to just kill Organza in the middle of the night, but it doesn't matter. I always knew I'd get this far. Now the real challenge begins. Just because something is a challenge, however, doesn't mean it isn't possible.

I'll be the victor. They'll see.

* * *

**Nimona Marks, 18**

**District 5 12th Female**

The Capitol doesn't care about us. They see every human life as disposable, including ours. From the second I'm taken from this arena, they'll treat me like a princess, pretending they care for me before dropping me like a hot stone into the second stage.

It's seriously depressing, for sure, but now I'm fighting for my life. I can't give up, no matter what.

* * *

**Madras Kestler, 17**

**District 8 1st Male**

Everything is a blur as they carry me into the hovercraft. The medical teams surround me, covering me with tiny laser points, searching for any interior injuries they can heal. All I can think about is how I'm going to make it through the next stage.

Really, it's too early to make "for sure" plans. I'll have to wait until training to meet the other careers I'm grouped with. There'll probably be multiple career packs. But don't worry, I'll make it through all the trouble. I always do.

* * *

**Rollag Hermes, 16**

**District 8 8th Male**

I try to deny my feelings, but I feel nothing but terror as the medics paste bandages and strange cream-like substances over my injuries. In the next stage, I'll be up against thirty-five other tributes. And if I make it through the second stage, I'll be up against twenty-three others. The twenty-three strongest out of the original 288. The very cream of the crop.

I take a deep breath and try not to worry. There will be a time for worrying and that time is not now.

* * *

**Brigitta Channel, 18**

**District 8 9th Female**

My father always told me to think about the risks and rewards before diving into an unfamiliar situation. There's a risk of death, of course, but I try not to think about that. I'll probably have plenty of sponsors, and lots of support in the Capitol public itself. There's a risk of injury, of course. Some kind of injury the medical teams can't heal. But that's impossible. Five years ago, the victor had his genitals completely torn off, and they managed to attach everything nice and neat. Any injuries I sustain during this second stage, they'll be able to heal.

Any non-lethal injuries, of course. But I'm not going to die. I won't allow it.

* * *

**Sasha Grotrekk, 14**

**District 8 10th Female**

I'm definitely the weakest of the twelve survivors. There's no denying that. But… I'm a fast runner, I guess? I have some smarts on my head as well. And my small size serves as a survival advantage. I try my best to be optimistic, to look on the bright side of things.

Yeah, I'll be alright. I hope.

* * *

**Threada Collins, 17**

**District 8 11th Female**

First, I was an anti-career. Then, I joined Dawson, Thred, and Rollag. I wonder how many more alliances I'll join in this next stage. It's not really something I'm proud of. The only reason I split from the anti-careers was because the careers attacked and I had no choice. I'm under the impression the boys were planning to kill me anyway by the point the stage ended.

I imagine what the tributes from the other districts will be like. It keeps my mind from thinking about what's to come.

* * *

**Crochet Undersee, 18**

**District 8 11th Male**

Other than the dead siblings, Violet and Indigo, I was the last tribute reaped. When that happened, all I felt was betrayal. I'd escaped ten other death sentences and somehow been screwed over by the eleventh one. That made no sense, I know. In order for there to be betrayal, there first has to be trust. I guess I did trust I wouldn't get reaped. It was my last year. I was just about to be safe.

Now, I guess I am safe. For the time being, at least. The second stage starts in a week. They can't hurt me before then.


	12. D3-D9: Reapings

**A/N: Hey! Does anyone still follow this story? I'll still keep writing for it regardless. I'm just wondering if anyone is reading. If you're seeing this, please lemme know :D**

* * *

**Electra Node, 19**

**Escort for District 3**

My eyes are transfixed on the holograph television screen. The sensation of brushes gliding across my face is distant. They're currently interviewing the twelve survivors of the District 5 and 8 competition. Overall, I'm happy with the twelve that made it out. I was hoping Patternia would survive, as she was one of my favorites, but what can you do?

"I honestly never thought I'd get this far," one of the tributes, Dawson, says. "But I'm glad. And I'm hoping I can continue this lucky streak all the way to victory."

Brigitta spends several minutes talking. Because of her peacekeeper father, she knows all about Panem's businesses and politics. She really has a way with words, and she knows how to play the crowd. She could seriously go far.

"Ma'am, the reaping begins in sixty seconds," a peacekeeper says, poking his head into the room.

I pull a small mirror out of my purse, taking a look at my stunning makeup. I adjust my wig and dab at my sparkly orange blush, then follow the peacekeeper out of the room.

"Welcome, District 3!" I shout, clapping my hands over my head. A few polite people cheer.

"I must say I expected better. Let's try that again. Are we ready?"

That gets more of the crowd excited. "That's great to hear. And it's also great that twenty-four of you are about to become tributes in the final Hunger Games. We'll do this in an alternating fashion, first a girl, then a boy, then a girl, and so on."

"Lo…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A young but stocky career girl steps out of the crowd.

"Can you give us a name and age, please?" I ask.

The girl smiles. "I'm Cordaire Stevens. I'm 16."

I reap the first boy. "Mo…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A muscled boy with curly dark hair walks to the stage.

"I'm Socket Alexial," he says. "And I'm a career. I'm 17."

"That's great!" I pick a girl. "Momenta Clarence!" A 15 year old girl, shaking, walks to the stage.

"Taure Sooks!" A 12 year boy starts crying within the crowd. The crowd clears, and two peacekeepers tug him along like a rag doll.

"Milly Lockwood!" A 13 year old girl steps forward, dazed.

"Huxley Grunge!" A tall, healthy 18 year old shuffles to the stage.

"Kaicee Mitchell!" Another 18 year old, tall and thin, towers over tiny Momenta, Taure, and Milly.

"Caden Yallenson!" A thin and malnourished 18 year old takes the fourth male slot.

A girl. "Tallie Chett!" The 14 year old moves slowly to the stage, begging to be saved. She whispers her age into my ear. "Tallie is 14, everyone!"

I draw a boy. "Oshea Taverns!" A muscular tribute, over six feet tall, climbs the steps, making the young tributes quiver. Even Cordaire and Socket, the careers, seem somewhat taken aback.

"I trained as a career for about five years," Oshea explains. "But then I dropped out. You could call me an ex-career."

I nod and draw a girl. "Laurisa Caver!" A forgettable 17 year old takes the stage, fidgeting anxiously.

"Bolt Reuben!" A 16 year old boy clumsily stumbles to the stage, clearly a ditz. The reaping is now halfway over.

"Fusae Soccorso!" A completely bald 16 year old girl sprints to the stage.

"I have a condition called alopecia," Fusae explains. "It makes me lose my hair. Don't worry, it isn't contagious."

"Verney Dorsin!" A 13 year old boy shuffles to the stage, giggling like a little kid.

"I volunteer as tribute!" someone shouts. A 16 year old boy guides Verney back into the crowd and then walks to the stage, tears in his eyes.

"Are you a career?" I ask the volunteer.

"No," he says. "I'm Coco Dorsin. That's my brother. He's severely disabled."

Silently, I draw the eighth girl. "Telata Landers!" A surprisingly stoic 13 year old steps forward.

"Cache Marksens!" An undernourished factory worker, age 14, struggles to move to the stage. He needs a loaf of bread.

"Prota Carys!" A 17 year old girl, thin but muscled, runs to the stage, shaking her head in denial.

"Pad Nemrose!" A tiny 12 year old dressed in rags has to be dragged to the stage by peacekeepers. He fights and screams but is unable to escape. Two other tributes, Laurisa and Cache, try to console him.

"Katya Audrin!" An 18 year old with curly blond hair and an unhealthy amount of red lipstick sprints to the stage. I notice she's wearing lots of other makeup as well. How she can afford all of that, I have no idea.

"Datum Gemsie!" A sobbing 13 year old boy runs to the stage with his face in his hands.

I pick the eleventh girl. "Mitzi Tanner!" A forgettable 16 year old steps out of the crowd.

"Silicon Blackmar!" The square falls silent as the impressively muscled, attractive 18 year old jogs to the stage. The careers and Oshea stare daggers at him.

"Juliya Bethe!" Juliya is a 15 year old with a yellow, sunken face and dirty skin. Even next to tributes like Datum and Mitzi, her appearance is pathetic.

"And finally, Spur Holwell!" A dazed 16 year old shuffles up the steps.

"That's all for now!" I shout, turning around and facing the tributes. "Congratulations to Cordaire, Socket, Momenta, Taure, Milly, Huxley, Kaicee, Caden, Tallie, Oshea, Laurisa, Bolt, Fusae, Coco, Telata, Cache, Prota, Pad, Katya, Datum, Mitzi, Silicon, Juliya, and Spurr!"

The crowd starts to disperse as I lead the tributes into the Justice Building. Which of these tributes will make it past the first stage?

* * *

**Azolla Roselock, 27**

**Escort for District 9**

"Welcome, District 9!" I shout. "Now, let's get down to business. We'll do this in an alternating fashion, first a girl, then a boy, then a girl, and so on!"

"Tu…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A pretty 17 year old girl with a bright smile takes the stage.

"You sure seem happy!" I shout. "Can you give us a name and age?"

The girl takes the microphone. "I'm Maizie Nash. I'm 17."

I draw the first male name. "Ra…"

"I volunteer as tribute!" A broad-shouldered, muscular academy student steps forward.

"I'm Sorghum Bunker, and I'm 18 years old," he says.

"Aluma Barton!" A shuddering 16 year old stumbles to the stage, clutching her chest.

"Kenneth Spino!" A forgettable 14 year old boy, sweating, runs to the stage. Unless a career is pulling off an Electron-like gambit, I don't think we're getting any more careers from District 9.

"Abeline Carron!" A malnourished 13 year old drags her way to the stage.

"Basil Huchra!" A 15 year old boy, sobbing and shaking, shuffles up the steps.

I pick a girl. "Bryony Withers!" The first healthy tribute since Sorghum jogs to the stage, looking stoic.

A boy. "Olivo Trunks!" An average-looking 17 year old hesitantly runs forward.

"Teff Stellar!" The thin 15 year old girl looks dazed.

"Cabot Lampkin!" A small 13 year old, tiny from undernourishment, struggles to make his way to the stage.

"Desdemona Brooks!" A willowy girl, age 18, jogs to the stage.

"Othello Brooks!" A tall and muscular boy, also age 18, joins Desdemona on the stage.

"We're twins," Othello explains, pointing between himself and Desdemona.

I nod, drawing a girl. "Gwenith Lissen!" A thin 16 year old, whimpering, steps forward.

A boy. "Danton Robbins!" Danton reaches the stage and swallows hard, staring longingly back at the 16 year old section.

"Elodie Pike!" A 15 year old girl collapses within the crowd, screaming at the top of her lungs. Two peacekeepers pull her to the stage.

"Harvey Reynolds!" A 17 year old boy sprints to the stage, jaw set and lips formed into a solid line. He seems to be trying hard not to cry.

A girl. "Lena Munger!" The scrawny 14 year old girl clutches her chest, sobbing noiselessly.

A boy. "Florian Stone!" A 12 year old, surprisingly tall and fast for his age, runs to the stage.

Another girl. "Secala Wade!" Secala silently saunters out of the 17 year old section, staring at the ground.

And another boy. "Liose Coster!" A 16 year old hobbles to the stage, a crutch tucked under his right elbow. It takes me too long to realize his left arm is completely missing. "What happened?" I ask.

"There was an accident with a tractor," Liose says. "Six months ago." He shivers, and I don't ask him to explain more.

"Ida Gleaves!" A hyperventilating 16 year old moves slowly to the stage, crying for help.

"Oswald Downs!" A 13 year old with a completely yellow face and sunken features walks to the stage. That color can only come from morphling. I've never seen an addict outside of District 6 before.

"Demi Claren!" The final girl, a 16 year old with a freezing cold gaze, flips me off and grudgingly stands with the other tributes.

And the final tribute. "Ronan Stuart!" A 16 year old boy, pale with shock, sprints to the stage.

"Wow, District 9!" I cry out, spreading my arms. "There you have it. Congratulations to Maizie, Sorghum, Aluma, Kenneth, Abilene, Basil, Bryony, Olivo, Teff, Cabot, Desdemona, Othello, Gwenith, Danton, Elodie, Harvey, Lena, Florian, Secala, Liose, Ida, Oswald, Demi, and Ronan!"

I can't deny that I'm a little let down by this bunch. I look them over as they disappear into the Justice Building one by one, wondering which of them will make it past the first stage.


	13. D3-D9: Trains and Chariots

**Huxley Grunge, 18**

**District 3 3rd Male**

I'll admit that I'm a little intimidated by Oshea. Alliances gradually form throughout the first few hours, but nobody has the nerves to approach the muscled ex-career.

I head to the kitchen, where there are at least fifteen tributes crowded around the fridge pulling things out and shoving them into their mouths. I manage to grab a bottle of sweet-smelling pink liquid that tickles my throat. I'm not that hungry, so I leave the food for the other kids and return to the train car to talk to Oshea.

"What's up?" I ask.

Oshea turns slowly away from the window. "Not much. Just watching the, you know, marvelous scenery."

I laugh a little and nod my head. Nodding is cool, right? "Can I sit here?"

"Sure, dude. What are you drinking?"

I set the pink bottle down on the table and stare at it. "I honestly have no idea. It's so sugary it feels carbonated." I turn my eyes to the bowl of candy that sits in front of him. "What are those?"

Oshea picks up a candy and rolls it between his fingers. "These things? Apparently they make you spit in six different colors."

These Capitolites, I swear. "I'm Huxley, by the way. How close do you think we are to District 9?"

"We can't be far," Oshea says, looking back out the window. It's actually less than ten minutes when the train comes to a stop. When that happens, another boy sits down at the table. He takes be a little by surprise, and I think I scare him a little, but he rests his hands on the table and takes a deep breath. He's here to stay.

"I'm Bolt Reuben," he says.

"I'm Huxley Grunge," I say.

"I'm Oshea Taverns," Oshea says.

From what little I've seen of Bolt, he seems like a kind of ditz. I find him to be particularly bad at holding a conversation for very long. The three of us are sitting in silence when the District 9 tributes pour into the train car.

I recognize all of their faces from the list that the peacekeepers passed around a few hours ago. Abilene, Basil, Cabot, Danton, Lena, Florian, Ida, and Oswald immediately rush toward the kitchen. The other tributes wander in circles around the entrance car, already grouping off into alliances. I find myself particularly interested in a conversation between Bryony and Liose, a boy and girl with the same hair color.

"What happened to your arm?" Bryony asks.

"It was a tractor accident," Liose says. "The thing went out of control and I fell straight off. I couldn't get out of the way fast enough."

Bryony winces, twirling a finger through her hair. "I'm sorry."

Liose does a one-armed shrug. At some point, Bryony and Liose must notice us watching them, because they come over and sit with us, squeezing in to make room.

"That was a little rude," Bolt grunts. Oshea looks a little peeved as well.

Bryony extends her hand. "I'm Bryony Withers. And no, I am not related to Phoenix Withers."

"And I'm Liose," Liose says. "It's soil. But backward. My parents had a unique sense of humor."

"Had?" I ask. Then I remember the tractor accident. "Never mind."

* * *

**Katya Audrin, 18**

**District 3 10th Female**

I've been standing in the bathroom for at least ten minutes, standing completely still in front of the mirror. I can't let myself cry because that would smear my makeup. I can't even squeeze my eyes shut. It's literally all I can do to stand there and stare into my ugly reflection until somebody else knocks on the door.

"Um… are you almost done?" they ask.

"Yeah." I flush the toilet and wash my hands, then run out of the ornate bathroom. One of the girls from District 9, Gwenith, stands there, shaking back and forth like she really has to pee.

"What the hell took you so long?" a nearby girl asks. "Gwenith almost pissed her pants."

What's her name? Milly Lockwood, I remember. She was one of the first girls chosen, with only Cordaire and Momenta coming before her.

"I… um… ate some weird stuff before the reaping."

Milly raises her eyes. "Oh really. Come sit down."

I realize Milly is sitting with someone else: the bald girl named Fusae. Even she's kind of pretty, with light blue eyes and naturally rosy cheeks.

I figure I should introduce myself. "I'm Katya. And I'm 18 years old."

Fusae wrinkles her mouth. "And where did you get all of that makeup?"

The real answer brings me only shame. I bought this makeup instead of food for my family. But I tell some lie about finding it in a drawer that was bolted shut. I shrug, saying I actually have no idea how it got there.

"Maybe it's haunted!" Milly says. "That's why it was locked away."

I decide to laugh things off. "Well, if it's haunted, I'm shit outta luck."

Gwenith flushes the toilet and steps out of the bathroom, sighing with relief. She sees me, and her eyes brighten. "Looks like someone's joined the group chat."

"Yeah. I'm Katya."

"I'm Gwenith," Gwenith says.

Milly slams her hand on the table, using a fake accent. "Milly Lockwood."

"Fusae Soccorso."

"How do you even spell that?"

"Two Cs, one R, one S."

"Wow, your name is complicated."

"I know."

* * *

**Othello Brooks, 18**

**District 9 6th Male**

Desdemona and Othello are the main characters of a play written over half a millennium ago. Othello and Desdemona are husband and wife. An evil guy named Iago takes Desdemona's handkerchief and puts it in another guy's bedroom, making it look like she's having an affair. Othello strangles her to death out of anger. The end.

Odd naming scheme, but I'm not complaining. It's a great conversation starter.

Desdemona and I don't feel the need to add anyone else to our alliance for most of the train ride. But when Silicon, the enormous boy from District 3, sits down with us, we can't really say no.

"So you're twins?" he asks.

"Yep," I say, looking at Desdemona a little nervously.

"Cool," he says. "What weapons do you like?"

"Swords, I guess," Desdemona says. When the academy came around to our school and let us try out weapons, we both did decently well with swords and knives. I've heard they're the easiest weapons, so that's probably why.

"Did someone say swords?" another girl says, sitting down with us. Her hair is literally the darkest shade of black I've ever seen. She looked so cold at the reaping, her eyes so filled with hatred.

"I'm Demi Claren," she says, and the name makes me shiver. "And swords are my shtick."

"Shtick?" Silicon asks.

"It's like, you know, up my alley."

I nod, not because I understand, but because this Demi girl seems pretty cool and I don't want to make her mad. When she gets mad, she stares through your flesh and blood into your soul.

The daylight is fading by the time we pass into the Capitol's borders. At the moment, we're only on the mountainous outskirts, so I can't see anything more than the tops of a few buildings. The train stops, peacekeepers flood in to search us for explosives or drugs or whatever, and the four of us slide down in our seats, bored.

* * *

**Socket Alexial, 17**

**District 3 1st Male**

"Fuck that kid. Fuck him," Sorghum grunts.

We have four careers this year. Four careers against forty-four others. The career pack doesn't typically accept ex-careers, but Cordaire, Maizie, Sorghum, and I were hoping Oshea would join us, just to raise our numbers and our chances. But instead, he ran off with Huxley, Bolt, Bryony, and Liose. Anti-careers. Stupid.

Sorghum places a hand on his forehead, frustrated. "Seriously, guys. He allied with a guy with one arm."

Sorghum is frustrated easily. But he isn't one to stay mad or hold grudges. He just needs to let off steam right now. Then we can get on to actual career business.

The girls, Cordaire and Maizie, were mostly sitting back early on in the train ride. But they've been talking and moving around more as of late. My guess is that they were planning to keep from becoming targets, then realized that kind of strategy is pretty much pointless with such a small career pack.

No matter what, we're all targets of the untrained tributes and even each other.

I tell myself that I just need to hold out to the second stage, where there will hopefully be more careers from other districts to join up with.

An avox comes around with a plate of multicolored cookies and invites us to take one each. I try to push the plate away, but the avox insists, so I take a pale purple one and shove it into my mouth, swallowing it in one bite.

"What flavor is this?" Maizie asks, slowly chewing on her lime green cookie.

"Mine tastes like vanilla," Cordaire says.

Maizie hums quietly. "Mine tastes like… you know that misty smell? Like when you smell a hose close up?"

Socket grudgingly chews his cookie, probably thinking about different tortures for Oshea Taverns and his allies. We talk for several more hours, going through weapons and game plans and strategy. We're careful not to mention too much, in case there are cameras recording us, which there almost definitely are.

The train stops on the outskirts of the Capitol, we're briefly searched for drugs or whatever. Then the four of us retreat to bed as curfew arrives.

* * *

**A/N: I didn't include a POV for "throwbasket". Think of it as a bunch of kids of varying ages, all with relatively low scores. It's a tentative alliance; they don't completely trust each other, they just think they can survive longer in a large group.**

**Alliances:**

**Careers: Cordaire, Socket, Maizie, Sorghum**

**Anti-Careers: Huxley, Oshea, Bolt, Bryony, Liose**

**Beautiful Belles: Milly, Fusae, Katya, Gwenith**

**Shakespeare: Silicon, Desdemona, Othello, Demi**

**Throwbasket: Caden, Telata, Spurr, Kenneth, Teff, Lena, Ronan**

**Loners (For Now): Momenta, Taure, Kaicee, Tallie, Laurisa, Coco, Cache, Prota, Pad, Datum, Mitzi, Juliya, Aluma, Abilene, Basil, Olivo, Cabot, Danton, Elodie, Harvey, Florian, Secala, Ida, Oswald**

* * *

**Titus Andronicus Bacchus Hazel, 45**

**President of Panem**

"Welcome back!" Phoenix Withers shouts into the microphone, beaming. "In just a moment, we will catch the first glance of our next forty-eight tributes, coming from District 3 and District 9!"

Phoenix makes a brief sweeping motion with his hand, gesturing toward the twelve youths sitting behind him: the twelve tributes from Districts 5 and 8 that survived the first stage. Which of the tributes in the chariots will soon join them?

"Without further ado, in comes our first set, Cordaire Stevens and Socket Alexial! Both careers, if I recall correctly. Those outfits have lots of gears, and are those sparks flying? Look at their smiles! And look at the muscle on the both of them. They're sure to go far. Momenta Clarence and Taure Sooks are out next, definitely a smaller pair, but packing a punch with those outfits made of computer keys. Unique and original: great! Next up are Milly Lockwood and Huxley Grunge, wearing two-piece metal outfits. Those antennas and black sunglasses make them look a bit like aliens. Maybe that was the point. Put your hands together for Kaicee Mitchell and Caden Yallenson! What are those sparkly pink outfits supposed to represent? Maybe the glow of a hot wire? Just food for thought. Tallie Chett and Oshea Taverns are out next, and wow, just take a look at those robot costumes! Metallic claws on their hands, boxy helmets. They sure look great, even if they may be a little heavy. Our sixth set is next out, made up of Laurisa Caver and Bolt Reuben, dressed as circuit boards. Average, if that. Although their wild hairstyles are somewhat interesting. I wish I could do my hair like that. Anyway, we can't rant about them all day. Now we have the pleasure of seeing Fusae Soccorso and Coco Dorsin. A girl who's bald and these games' only non-career volunteer, they're certainly a memorable set! That silver dress and suit look really rough. Anyway, Telata Landers and Cache Marksens! They're wearing pretty standard dress clothes, a tux and a sundress. Wow! Look at their sunglasses switch color! Prota Carys and Pad Nemrose are out next. They're both wrapped in some kind of thick cord; maybe computer wire? Memorable enough, but they're both sweating a lot. Our tenth set contains Katya Audrin and Datum Gemsie, wearing outfits made of glowing orange wire. How doesn't it burn them? Maybe the glow is fake. Yeah, I bet that's what it is. Mitzi Tanner and Silicon Blackmar are out next. Both very revealing wire outfits, that's for sure. Knotted strategically in certain areas, as you do. We like to keep the Hunger Games kid friendly. And our final pair, Juliya Bethe and Spurr Howell! Spurr is dressed as a computer mouse, and Juliya is dressed as… an actual mouse? That fur looks uncomfortable. Oh no! She's stepped on her tail! She fell out of her chariot! Don't worry, two peacekeepers have helped her up. She's back in the chariot. Juliya Bethe is officially safe once more. Thanks for listening, guys and girls! We'll be back in five minutes with District 9!"

I take a sip of my wine, momentarily closing my eyes as the last few chariots disappear from sight. "Welcome back, folks, with District 9! Out comes our first chariot, carrying Maizie Nash and Sorghum Bunker, the second half of the career pack! Those sparkly golden outfits are very appealing, if a little plain. Overall great work! Aluma Barton and Kenneth Spino aren't nearly as classy. Their outfits are made entirely of stalks of wheat. Watch them frantically itch themselves. Ouch, that's got to hurt. Say hello to Abeline Carron and Basil Huchra, wearing burlap. They look a bit like potato sacks. I think those gold pom-poms are supposed to represent wheat? Anything gold is wheat in District 9. Fourth set: Bryony Withers and Olivo Trunks! Bryony is rocking that silver dress. She's a pretty one. Olivo is a little smaller, but that doesn't mean we should count him out. Olivo, I'm sure you'll do great. Teff Stellar and Cabot Lampkin have silky blue tops and golden bottoms. I guess they represent the clear sky and the wheat field. It's almost like poetry. Next out is our sixth set, Desdemona Brooks and Othello Brooks! They're both very confident. Way to go, Desdemona and Othello. Confidence is key. I can't imagine how those plain white outfits represent District 9. There isn't really a law that says it has to, though. Creative stylists, that's for sure. Or lazy ones. But let's go with the former. Seventh set: Gwenith Lissen and Danton Robbins. They're dressed as tractors. Literally, we can only see their heads. Those outfits must weigh a ton. A "Danton". Please pardon the pun. Eighth set: Elodie Pike and Harvey Reynolds. Their entire outfits are completely brown. What the heck? At least the white looked good on Othello and Desdemona. Wait, what's this? Wheat coming out of the brown? I guess the brown is supposed to represent soil. I have no idea how that just happened, and it's more fun that way. Lena Munger and Florian Stone are out next, wearing relatively plain golden clothes. Not stellar costumes, but what can you do? Secala Wade and Liose Coster are dressed uniquely. Look at that shimmering rainbow cloth! Rainbow comes after rainstorm. Rainstorm makes grain grow. Ah, these stylists. Give a round of applause to Ida Gleaves and Oswald Downs, wearing a golden dress and suit. Come on. Get creative! And our final set: Demi Claren and Ronan Stuart! They both seem relatively confident. Put your bets on Demi and Ronan, fine people! Those scarecrow costumes are extremely detailed, even though all that straw must be itchy. Those pumpkin helmets are a nice touch. Wow, Panem! There we have it: the final Hunger Games tributes from Districts 3 and 9! Tune in tomorrow for the tributes' first day of training. Until then, it's Phoenix Withers, out!"


	14. D3-D9: Training and Interviews

**Silicon Blackmar, 18**

**District 3 11th Male**

Even with the help of the avoxes, breakfast is a disaster. Our escort is only nineteen years old. You'd think her youth would make her hardy enough to run back and forth across the suite with ease, but she's so small that she begins sweating within minutes.

There are theoretically over fifty people to feed, but the mentors and stylists mostly sit back without touching their food while the twenty-four of us eat. A little kid from District 9, Cabot Lampkin, whines about being allergic to something on his plate. Cabot's voice is legitimately the most annoying I've heard in my life. It squeaks and cracks a ridiculous amount, even for a thirteen year on.

All of my allies—Desdemona, Othello, and Demi—are from District 9, on the upper floors of the building. I'm effectively alone down here. It isn't until after breakfast that we can meet in the training room and discuss things.

None of the tributes are eager to sit with me, so I plop down in an empty space at the far end of the bench. The nearest tribute, Mitzi, scooches away from me, moving in close to a girl named Tallie. I glance around the room as the table begins to fill. Cordaire and Socket, the king and queen, sit at opposite ends of the table's center. The anti-careers, Huxley, Oshea, and Bolt, huddle at the far end of the bench. There are two other anti-careers, but Bryony and Liose are both in District 9 upstairs. The girls, Milly, Fusae, and Katya, also sit together. I notice small groups of the weakest tributes forming: Momenta, Prota, and Datum in one clique, Taure, Cache, and Juliya in another. I doubt any of those will bloom into permanent alliances.

Really, permanent alliance is an oxymoron in itself. No alliance is permanent within the Hunger Games.

I tune into a quiet conversation between a peacekeeper and seventeen year-old Laurisa. "Sir, there's nowhere to sit," Laurisa says.

"There, next to Silicon," the peacekeeper says, pointing to me.

Laurisa swallows hard. "I…"

"Sit down."

"Yes, sir."

Shaking, the girl sits down to my left. I move over to make space for her, but I still feel a weird obligation to talk to her. "Uh.. hi."

"Hi," Laurisa warbles. That's the end of our conversation. I'm a big fan of peace and quiet, so I don't attempt to make small talk with anybody else as I continue to eat my strange breakfast in silence.

* * *

**Sorghum Bunker, 18**

**District 9 1st Male**

Socket and I head to the spear station as soon as we're dismissed. I know I'll have to interact with Cordaire and Maizie at some point, but I can't be bothered at this point. Cordaire's distance from it all is definitely peeving, and Maizie's high-pitched giggle only brings annoyance.

I'm still pissed about the fact that Oshea chose the anti-careers over our group, but last night I resolved to put that aside. We can always go for him later. For now, I need to focus on what's at hand: making the outliers shit their pants.

"Hard difficulty?" Socket asks, turning the orange plastic dial.

I nod as the first holographic enemy appears, bright red in color. I thrust my spear into its chest, and it explodes into tiny cubes that eventually fade from sight. The next enemies come two at a time, nearly overwhelming Socket. I help him out by spearing one through the neck while he takes out the other.

The holograms come in faster and faster. Their high numbers are difficult to keep away, but Socket and I do a pretty good job. The trainer smiles and resets the station for another round. The enemies are blue this time, and much more stupid. Socket and I leave pretty quickly after the third round, exhausted.

"See those kids?" Socket says as we head over the large water cooler. "I saw them on the train together, late yesterday. Caden, Telata, Spurr, Kenneth, Teff, Lena, and Ronan. They were just staring out the window in silence."

"How heartwarming." I roll my eyes and take a refreshing sip of water.

There are loners scattered here and there: Coco at fire-staring, Juliya at swords, Basil at shelter-building, Danton and Harvey at water purification. Florian, Ida, and Oswald pathetically failing the gauntlet. The big alliances travel amongst them like trains through an open field of sheep. The anti-careers: Huxley, Oshea, Bolt, Bryony, and Liose. The girls, Milly, Fusae, Katya, and Gwenith. The brother and sister, Desdemona and Othello, with their friends, strong Silicon and icy cold Demi.

"We should try the gauntlet," I blurt out.

Socket shrugs. "Why not? Let's give it a few minutes. Cordaire and Maizie will probably want on too."

I groan. "Sure."

We approach the gauntlet after about ten minutes, and sure enough, Cordaire and Maizie rush into sight within seconds. "Going without us?" Maizie asks in faux betrayal.

I turn to Socket. "I'm beating you to the top anyway."

Socket chuckles. "Shut the fuck up."

* * *

**Telata Landers, 13**

**District 3 8th Female**

At lunch, I sit down next to Kenneth, the cute blond boy from District 9. Teff starts chatting it up with Lena, while Ronan, Spurr, and Caden start up their own three-way chat.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Not so great," Kenneth responds. "But what can you do?"

I laugh a little and rest my elbows on the table. It takes at least five minutes for the tables to fill completely, because the loners keep moving around the table, looking for some place to sit that's far away from the careers.

The two escorts, Electra and Azolla, appear out of thin air and clap in unison. The forty-eight of us immediately fall silent, other than Sorghum and Socket, who keep taking for a few seconds. Their last sentence contains the word "death". That makes me shiver.

"Congratulations, tributes!" Azolla shouts. "You have reached the halfway point of your first day of training! You will be called up in alphabetical order for lunch! Abilene Carron!"

The 13 year old girl stands up and zips over to the food table, sweating profusely.

Aluma goes next, then Basil, Bolt, Brony, Cabot, Cache, Caden, Coco, and Cordaire. "This is taking forever," I murmur to Kenneth as Danton Robbins shakily fills his plate.

Kenneth just shrugs. Datum follows, then Demi, Desdemona, Elodie, Florian, Fusae, Gwyneth, Harvey, Huxley, Ida, Juliya, Kaicee, and Katya.

"Kenneth Spino!" Kenneth stands up and strolls over to the food table. I try to see what he scoops onto his plate, but the view is soon blocked by Laurisa, Lena, and Liose, who make up the next letter. Maizie, Milly, Mitzi, Momenta, Olivo, Oshea, Oswald, Othello, Pad, Prota, Ronan, Secala, Silicon, Socket, Sorghum, Spurr, Tallie, Taure, Teff…

I've practically fallen asleep when I hear the name, "Telata Landers!" I jump to my feet, shocking a few of the other tributes, including Abilene, who yelps a little and shifts off of her seat.

I softly apologize and head over to the table. There's a ridiculous amount to take in, so I just grab some colored ice cream, some green noodles with light yellow sauce, and a glass of water. It's a ridiculous combination that I'm sure will taste terrible, but at least I have the water to cleanse my palette after every bite.

By the time I drop down into my seat, most of the tributes have already finished their food. I can feel their eyes on the back of my head, silently begging for me to finish quickly so they can return to training. Being the last in the alphabet has its drawbacks.

* * *

**Neptune Amaryllis, 56**

**Head Gamemaker**

I must admit I'm surprised by the results of the games between Districts 5 and 8. Some of the stronger tributes, like Electron, Brigitta, and Threada, I certainly expected to make it past. I had predicted Patternia and Cosima would make it through as well. I was also surprised by the number of weaker tributes that made it past the first stage.

From what little I've seen of the tributes from Districts 3 and 9, the vast majority of them are weak. Most of these scores will be between two and five, I can already predict.

A heavy knock comes on the door, and an avox enters, carrying a plain paper envelope bearing the Capitol seal. He sets it on my desk and silently exits. I crack the wax seal and pull out the confidential papers inside.

_PRIVATE SESSIONS REPORT_

_Below is a list of the tributes and the skills which they showcased in their individual private sessions. You are to use this list as a point of reference when determining the tributes' training scores. Destroy this document after use. Thank you._

_DISTRICT 3_

_Cordaire Stevens: Showcased sword skills (10/12), spear skills (9/12), and knife skills (8/12)_

_Socket Alexial: Showcased throwing knife skills (9/12) and sword skills (7/12)_

_Momenta Clarence: Showcased crossbow skills (5/12)_

_Taure Sooks: Showcased fire starting skills (4/12) and knife skills (1/12)_

_Milly Lockwood: Showcased knot-tying skills (4/12) and fire starting skills (4/12)_

_Huxley Grunge: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and dagger skills (6/12)_

_Kaicee Mitchell: Showcased hatchet skills (6/12)_

_Caden Yallenson: Showcased edible plants skills (4/12), fire starting skills (4/12), and gauntlet skills (2/12)_

_Tallie Chett: Showcased knot tying skills (3/12) and throwing knife skills (3/12)_

_Oshea Taverns: Showcased gauntlet skills (8/12), wrestling skills (7/12), and mace skills (5/12)_

_Laurisa Caver: Showcased dagger skills (4/12) and knife skills (3/12)_

_Bolt Reuben: Showcased knife skills (7/12) and shelter building skills (6/12)_

_Fusae Soccorso: Showcased bow skills (5/12)_

_Coco Dorsin: Showcased crossbow skills (5/12) and camouflage skills (5/12)_

_Telata Landers: Showcased gauntlet skills (2/12) and knife skills (4/12)_

_Cache Marksens: Showcased spear skills (3/12)_

_Prota Carys: Showcased edible plants skills (6/12) and dagger skills (1/12)_

_Pad Nemrose: Showcased sword skills (1/12), shelter building skills (2/12), and fire starting skills (2/12)_

_Katya Audrin: Showcased bow skills (5/12) and dagger skills (5/12)_

_Datum Gemsie: Showcased knife skills (2/12)_

_Mitzi Tanner: Showcased rope climbing skills (3/12), edible plants skills (3/12), and knife skills (4/12)_

_Silicon Blackmar: Showcased weight lifting skills (9/12), gauntlet skills (7/12), and sword skills (8/12)_

_Juliya Bethe: Showcased crossbow skills (2/12) and bow skills (2/12)_

_Spurr Howell: Showcased dagger skills (6/12) and bow skills (6/12)_

_DISTRICT 9_

_Maizie Nash: Showcased bow skills (8/12) and sword skills (8/12)_

_Sorghum Bunker: Showcased sword skills (10/12), mace skills (10/12), and gauntlet skills (9/12)_

_Aluma Barton: Showcased dagger skills (5/12)_

_Kenneth Spino: Showcased crossbow skills (3/12) and edible plants skills (4/12)_

_Abilene Carron: Showcased fire starting skills (2/12), shelter building skills (2/12), and dagger skills (1/12)_

_Basil Huchra: Showcased sickle knife skills (5/12) and agility course skills (1/12)_

_Bryony Withers: Showcased sickle skills (7/12) and spear skills (6/12)_

_Olivo Trunks: Showcased camouflage skills (5/12) and scythe skills (2/12)_

_Teff Stellar: Showcased sickle skills (5/12)_

_Cabot Lampkin: Showcased edible plants skills (3/12) and rope climbing skills (3/12)_

_Desdemona Brooks: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and bow skills (6/12)_

_Othello Brooks: Showcased sword skills (7/12) and bow skills (7/12)_

_Gwenith Lissen: Showcased throwing knife skills (5/12), crossbow skills (5/12), and edible plants skills (4/12)_

_Danton Robbins: Showcased fire starting skills (3/12) and water purification skills (3/12)_

_Elodie Pike: Showcased rope climbing skills (4/12) and sickle skills (3/12)_

_Harvey Reynolds: Showcased knife skills (4/12)_

_Lena Munger: Showcased knife skills (5/12), camouflage skills (1/12), and gauntlet skills (1/12)_

_Florian Stone: Showcased dagger skills (3/12) and throwing knife skills (2/12)_

_Secala Wade: Showcased edible plant skills (5/12) and knife skills (5/12)_

_Liose Coster: Showcased agility course skills (7/12), throwing knife skills (6/12), and edible insects skills (4/12)_

_Ida Gleaves: Showcased scythe skills (3/12) and sickle skills (2/12)_

_Oswald Downs: Showcased dagger skills (2/12) and snare building skills (2/12)_

_Demi Claren: Showcased dagger skills (5/12), spear skills (5/12), and crossbow skills (4/12)_

_Ronan Stuart: Showcased slingshot skills (5/12) and throwing knife skills (4/12)_

* * *

**Electra Node, 19**

**Escort for District 3**

The lights begin to fade as the announcement begins. The tributes' eyes are trained on the holographic television screen and the shining eyes of Phoenix Withers.

"As you all know, the tributes have been ranked on a scale of one to twelve based on their aptitude in training. Without any further ado, the training scores!"

_Cordaire Stevens, District 3 1st Female – 10_

Everyone applauds: a great score for the strong, if mysterious, career girl.

_Socket Alexial, District 3 1st Male – 9_

Socket's career friend Sorghum punches him playfully in the nose. They both chuckle, even when Socket's nose starts to bleed.

_Momenta Clarence, District 3 2nd Female – 5_

Momenta nods in satisfaction. That's more standard fare for District 3.

_Taure Sooks, District 3 2nd Male – 3_

Taure wrings his hands in worry as tears begin to well up in his eyes.

_Milly Lockwood, District 3 3rd Female – 4_

Milly stares at the screen, unsure of how to react to a 4.

_Huxley Grunge, District 3 3rd Male – 7_

Huxley's allies, Oshea and Bolt, slap the smiling boy on the back.

_Kaicee Mitchell, District 3 4th Female – 5_

The girl bites her lips, looking distraught.

_Caden Yallenson, District 3 4th Male – 4_

Given he's eighteen years old, Caden's score of 4 is definitely a little underwhelming. The boy himself seems to agree.

_Tallie Chett, District 3 5th Female – 3_

Tallie shakes her head, trembling in terror.

_Oshea Taverns, District 3 5th Male – 8_

The entire room falls silent as we stare at the tall, muscled factory worker. He could seriously go far, especially surrounded by so many weak tributes.

_Laurisa Caver, District 3 6th Female – 4_

Laurisa rubs the back of her neck, frowning in defeat.

_Bolt Reuben, District 3 6th Male – 7_

The room applauds halfheartedly for the attractive sixteen-year-old. I can tell many of the tributes already feel doomed.

_Fusae Soccorso, District 3 7th Female – 5_

Fusae's allies, Milly and Katya, applaud furiously. Fusae just nods, reasonably satisfied.

_Coco Dorsin, District 3 7th Male – 5_

The volunteer boy just stares back at the hologram with wide, tired eyes.

_Telata Landers, District 3 8th Female – 3_

Telata is congratulated by each of her quasi-allies, Caden and Spurr. I vaguely hear Kenneth, Teff, and Ronan stomping their feet from the floor above.

_Cache Marksens, District 3 8th Male – 3_

Cache begins crying silently. Unlike Telata, he has no allies to cheer him on.

_Prota Carys, District 3 9th Female – 4_

Prota whimpers with dread, burying her face in her hands.

_Pad Nemrose, District 3 9th Male – 2_

Nobody can bear to watch the little boy wail and weep. His score is the lowest of the night so far.

_Katya Audrin, District 3 10th Female – 5_

The makeup-laden girl is too busy dabbing at her mascara to do anything but hum quietly.

_Datum Gemsie, District 3 10th Male – 2_

Datum wraps fellow 2-scorer, Pad, in a big hug. Before long, they're both crying.

_Mitzi Tanner, District 3 11th Female – 3_

Mitzi just stares at her lap. It's hard to read her reaction.

_Silicon Blackmar, District 3 11th Male – 8_

The careers stare daggers at the strong boy, who just smiles as the others applaud.

_Juliya Bethe, District 3 12th Female – 2_

Juliya joins the huddle with Pad and Datum, looking dazed.

_Spurr Howell, District 3 12th Male – 6_

A smile seats itself deep on his face. Not bad at all.

"And now onto District 9!"

* * *

**Azolla Roselock, 27**

**Escort for District 9**

_Maizie Nash, District 9 1st Female – 8_

Maizie groans under her breath, underwhelmed.

_Sorghum Bunker, District 9 1st Male – 10_

The boy puffs out his chest, pleased. Unless one of the outliers pulls off some huge upset, Sorghum is tied with Cordaire for the top score of the night.

_Aluma Barton, District 9 2nd Female – 5_

Aluma sighs, shrugging. She was never going to earn an eleven.

_Kenneth Spino, District 9 2nd Male – 3_

Kenneth blinks hard, trying to suppress tears.

_Abilene Carron, District 9 3rd Female – 2_

Abilene huffs, burying her face into a blue pillow.

_Basil Huchra, District 9 3rd Male – 4_

Basil seems pretty indifferent. That's more standard fare for District 9.

_Bryony Withers, District 9 4th Female – 7_

Bryony grins, thankful at having matched the scores of the other anti-careers. If I recall correctly, Huxley and Bolt scored sevens, while Oshea scored an impressive eight.

_Olivo Trunks, District 9 4th Male – 5_

Olivo just nods quietly, indifferent.

_Teff Stellar, District 9 5th Female – 4_

Teff's friend, Lena, congratulates her. Teff herself looks pretty underwhelmed.

_Cabot Lampkin, District 9 5th Male – 3_

Cabot clutches his stomach and begins to quietly sob.

_Desdemona Brooks, District 9 6th Female – 7_

Desdemona's rosy face shines with pleasure.

_Othello Brooks, District 9 6th Male – 7_

Othello grins, similarly satisfied.

_Gwenith Lissen, District 9 7th Female – 5_

Milly, Fusae, and Katya scream from the floor above, though their applause is barely audible through the soundproof ceiling.

_Danton Robbins, District 9 7th Male – 3_

Danton's shoulders slack as a sigh of defeat escapes his lips.

_Elodie Pike, District 9 8th Female – 4_

Elodie fakes a small smile, though tears are definitely welling up in her eyes.

_Harvey Reynolds, District 9 8th Male – 4_

The boy stares at his lap, ignoring Danton's and Olivo's attempts to console him.

_Lena Munger, District 9 9th Female – 2_

Lena's lips form into a solid line as her allies congratulate her.

_Florian Stone, District 9 9th Male – 3_

Florian's eyes are only vacant. His mind is in a very different place.

_Secala Wade, District 9 10th Female – 5_

Secala crosses her arms and stares at the ceiling.

_Liose Coster, District 9 10th Male – 6_

Liose holds up his single hand: first with all five fingers, then with one finger. A few of the others nervously giggle at the joke.

_Ida Gleaves, District 9 11th Female – 3_

Ida's face turns red as she begins to cry.

_Oswald Downs, District 9 11th Male – 2_

Oswald begins to cry in humiliation.

_Demi Claren, District 9 12th Female – 5_

Demi's eyes are as cold as ever as she glares at the screen. I wouldn't be surprised if Phoenix Withers begins trembling in terror.

_Ronan Stuart, District 9 12th Male – 5_

Ronan shrugs. A decent score to finish off the announcement.

As the tributes stand up and shuffle to bed in silence, I can tell these scores are not what they'd hoped for. Maizie and Sorghum, the careers, are the only ones who seem happy. Even Desdemona and Othello fail to make conversation as they shuffle to their bedrooms. I hope they can all raise their spirits for the interviews tomorrow night. If they haven't made a great impression yet, a memorable interview is their last shot at survival.

* * *

**0:**

**1:**

**2: Pad, Datum, Juliya, Abilene, Katya, Oswald**

**3: Taure, Tallie, Telata, Cache, Mitzi, Kenneth, Cabot, Danton, Florian, Ida**

**4: Milly, Caden, Laurisa, Prota, Basil, Teff, Elodie, Harvey**

**5: Momenta, Kaicee, Fusae, Coco, Katya, Aluma, Olivo, Gwenith, Secala, Demi, Ronan**

**6: Spurr, Liose**

**7: Huxley, Bolt, Bryony, Desdemona, Othello**

**8: Oshea, Silicon, Maizie**

**9: Socket**

**10: Cordaire, Sorghum**

**11:**

**12:**

* * *

**Titus Andronicus Bacchus Hazel, 45**

**President of Panem**

The audience roars as Phoenix Withers bends forward in a deep bow. "Welcome, welcome, ladies and gentleman, children of all ages! Last time you saw me here, we were meeting the forty-eight tributes from Districts 5 and 8. Today, the tables have turned, and we will all get to know the tributes of Districts 3 and 9 a little better. A three minute interview is provided for each tribute. Please put your hands together for Cordaire Stevens!"

Cordaire waltzes into the spotlight, wearing a bubblegum pink dress that spins around her curvy form. The audience is immediately drawn in by her confidence, and she remains level-headed as Phoenix strikes up a conversation about her home life. When questioned about her tactics, Cordaire stays pretty secretive, which is smart. She definitely has her mind set on survival.

Socket struts onto stage, wearing a dark green suit and tie. The career boy is sexy and comical and extremely popular with the audience. He's less of a comedian and more of a stoic tower of testosterone. It's hard to deny that the interview grows rather boring toward the end. Even so, Socket's looks are enough to keep the audience captivated.

Momenta shuffles onto stage, barely able to keep balance in her heels. Her lavender gown is beautiful, but the rest of her interview is pretty forgettable, however heartwarming her innocent giggles might me. Such an angle might work well for a twelve year old, but Momenta is fifteen. Largely, Momenta's interview is nothing more than cringe.

Taure marks the first disaster, crying from the moment he enters the spotlight in an all-white tux. All of his answers are stammered out, and it becomes increasingly more difficult to understand his speech as the interview progresses. Both the audience and the boy are relieved when the interview is over.

Milly smiles as she makes her entrance, clad in a pristine white sundress. Her words are smartly chosen, and her down-to-earth personality is one that will not be quickly forgotten. Milly is clever, snarky, and just the right amount of sassy. Despite her score of only four, she could seriously go far.

Huxley comes out in khaki pants and a plaid dress shirt. At first, he tries to act charming, but he stumbles over his words before long. It becomes clear that angle isn't working, so Huxley leans back and steers the conversation toward a few easier topics. The audience starts to zone out, and the fact that everyone is still talking about Milly doesn't help.

Kaicee follows Huxley, wearing an orange blazer. Her answers are well-crafted, but it's hard to appreciate her public speaking skills behind her unbelievably monotonous voice. Her interview okay: not good, not bad, but definitely forgettable. That's the very worst thing an interview can be.

Caden is just impressive as Kaicee before him, wearing a full gray outfit with a bow tie. His voice is slightly less monotone than Kaicee's, though he is shaking much more strongly. After a minute, his voice begins to quiver, and that's the end of the audience's attention.

Tallie wears a feathery magenta skirt and blouse, laughing and giggling merrily. The act is definitely fake, but I have to admit she pulls everything off very well. In our research, we found that Tallie was involved in many of her high school's theater productions, and she applies everything very well, reeling in the audience and making them laugh with nearly every line. A most definite success.

Oshea is instantly memorable for his appearance: six and a half feet tall and muscular, he towers over nearly all of the other tributes. The boy slowly sits down in the chair opposite Phoenix, making the seat look miniature. Oshea takes the charming ladies' man approach, which isn't very hard. Oshea Taverns is a shoe-in for a memorable interview, and he does not disappoint at all.

Laurisa follows two stellar tributes with a boring interview. Her white silk dress is pretty enough, especially paired with her bright blonde hair. All of her jokes are weak, and nothing about her really shines. Laurisa had lots of potential. Unfortunately, nearly none of that potential is fulfilled here.

Bolt makes an entrance, dressed in a baby pink tux. The boy is clearly humiliated by the outfit, and I can't blame him for turning a bright shade of red as the audience starts laughing. Bolt's voice is packed with nothing but frustration. He's smart enough to keep from doing anything stupid, which is smart.

Fusae comes next, wearing a zany rainbow wig that covers her bald head. She spends most of the interview talking to Phoenix about her illness. Toward the end, she turns to the audience and gives a corny speech about blessings. Many of the lines are stolen straight from Intarsia Peter's speech, and the audience realizes this quickly. Fusae's metaphors are weak, and her voice sort of falls flat when she realizes she's not a hit. Talk about trying too hard.

Coco has a sob-story prepared in advance. Being the only volunteer other than the four careers, he has the sympathy of the crowd by default. His outfit is pretty plain (a beige suit and tie), and so is the first minute of the interview. He manages to save things with a few witty comments about what it's like to be on stage. He gets his fair share of laughs, but Coco is far from the most memorable interview of the night.

Telata follows him, dressed in a fiery orange skirt. The outfit might look nice on a taller tribute, but Telata's tiny size prevents it from looking anything but out of place. Her interview is heartwarming. At one point, Phoenix feeds her a joke that makes a few people laugh in the audience. Still, everything is likely to be forgotten quickly.

Cache is dressed in a plain black tux. His interview is standard fare for a fourteen-year-old: drab, monotone, and, worst, forgettable. As he leaves the spotlight, I find myself unable to remember a single line of dialogue from the interview.

Prota Carys starts out her interview right. Phoenix: "Prota Carys. That's quite a name". Prota: "Well, I'm quite a person." It all goes downhill from there. Tears pour from her eyes the minute she starts talking about her family. Prota tries to regain her composure, but she can do nothing but continue to sob until the interview ends.

Pad's interview is equally disastrous. His blue suit is reminiscent of Prota's navy blue gown, but that isn't the only thing their interviews have in common. Pad does nothing but sob pathetically. Phoenix tries to console him, but to no avail. What did I expect from the scrawny twelve-year-old?

Non-careers are rarely able to pull off the sexy interview angle, but Katya Audrin does it and does it well. From the first butt shake, her interview jam-packed with flirty winks, butt shakes, and references to her breasts. If Phoenix is peeved by her dirty jokes, he doesn't show it. He's been the master of ceremonies for decades. He's seen weirder.

Datum leads another forgettable interview. He doesn't ever cry, and he rarely stumbles over his words. What really holds him back is the monotony of his voice. It's hard to tell what the boy sets, let alone get invested in his strange conversation with the dashing man in the other chair. Everyone is happy when the interview ends.

Mitzi is dressed in a semi-transparent, lacy white dress. She looks beautiful, her hair curled expertly. It's a shame her interview isn't more memorable. Her striking appearance earns her a few bonus points, sure, but it's hard to ignore the fact that her entire conversation is completely uninspired.

Silicon Blackmar's smile could sell truckloads of teeth whitener. The boy is just as tall and muscular as Oshea: enough to make a career tribute tremble. His training score of eight is the main point of conversation, though Silicon is careful not to reveal too much when questioned about his tactics. In many ways, he is similar to a career. It's a surprise the pack didn't embrace him as one of their own.

Juliya is a shivering and nervous mess, garbled in a pale green dress that clings to her body. She stutters out each of her responses. Even though her words are audible, they're anything but memorable. The latter half of the interview contains a bit of actual gibberish, which is more than a little off-putting.

Spurr finishes off District 3 with a decent interview, wearing a slate-gray tux and silver bow tie. While his interview isn't extremely captivating, the boy is charming enough to keep the audience focused. His positive attitude masks all of his mediocre jokes. Ultimately, the crowd applauds as he leaves the stage, making way for the first District 9 tribute.

Maizie is the first career tribute since Socket. She sashays out wearing a chartreuse ball gown and white heels. Maizie is just small enough to catch the audience's attention by being cute. Even so, the attitude is a little off-putting on an otherwise violent career.

Sorghum finishes off the second half of the career team, wearing a dark gray suit. A few of his cousins are peacekeepers, so Sorghum knows all the ins and outs of Panem: deposed politicians and the like. He's extremely careful to keep from saying too much, and succeeds, enchanting the entire audience. He will be lethal.

I'm not expecting anything special as Aluma enters, wearing a white silk skirt. Her interview is surprisingly memorable, with plenty of amusing small talk and witty commentary. The audience cheers as the three minutes ends. Aluma makes a single curtsy before her exit.

After four memorable interviews, Kenneth sours the entire affair. The boy is dressed smartly in a black tux, but that can only do so much to keep the audience's attention while he rambles on about uninteresting things in an uninteresting voice. He doesn't cry or anything, but Kenneth is nowhere near as confident as many of the others.

Abilene follows suit, dressed in a slim black dress. The girl is short and deathly skinny. Her hands shake on the armrests of the soft chair as she stammers out her vague answers. Phoenix tries every trick in the book to get her to talk more, but it's a lost cause.

Basil makes the next entrance, wearing a pea green suit. He's another one of those forgettable tributes who isn't particularly confident, but doesn't burst into tears either. Basil rambles on for the first half of the interview. After about two minutes, Phoenix steers the conversation toward a few more relevant topics. The interview ends with a nice bit of discussion, but it's still an overall failure.

Bryony walks onto stage in a flowery, light-blue dress. With a seven in training, she's automatically interesting. Her looks and her aesthetically pleasing certainly help as well. Bryony's interview isn't the most memorable in the world; it contains tons of fun jokes, but the girl starts to run out of ideas toward the end of the three minutes.

Olivo is crying from the moment he's carried onto stage. He has the self-control to keep from screaming, fighting, or running off of the stage, but he doesn't have quite enough to stop the tears as they continue to flow. It's immediately clear that the interview is beyond any hope of recovery. Phoenix just goes through a bit of comedy while the three minutes run through.

Teff Stellar is relatively unassuming at first sight, wearing a red gossamer dress. She's relatively quiet and shy, but the girl has a weird kind of mystery surrounding her. She's more intriguing than any other tribute of the night. As she exits, whispers break out in the audience like little hissing fires. Whatever Teff has done, she's done it right.

Cabot's voice is hard to take seriously. His highlighter yellow dress shirt is off-putting already, as if the voice cracks weren't annoying enough. It's incredulous how a human voice can be so high-pitched; how it can roll, crack, and fluctuate in volume as much as his does. He has a three in training; all things considered, he is doomed.

Desdemona enters, wearing an archaic green dress and apron. Phoenix leans back in his chair, signals for the spotlight queue, and allows the girl to deliver her soliloquy. The speech she gives is one delivered by the original character Desdemona, and she pulls everything off extremely well. Her voice is packed with drama and feeling. Before leaving the stage, she tells the audience to hold their applause, then makes way for her brother.

Othello saunters into the spotlight, garbled in similar period clothing. He completes the scene begun by his sister Desdemona, though his speaking voice is even more dramatic and memorable. As Othello exits, the curtains momentarily close, just for show.

The program resumes to feature Gwenith, who wears an ocean blue gown. No matter how comedic and memorable Gwenith tries to be, the audience pays absolutely no attention. They're all whispering about Desdemona and Othello. Gwenith just stares down at her lap when she realizes it's all a lost cause.

Danton enters next, wearing a zoot suit, a black hat, and a cane. It's definitely one of the most unique costumes so far, which is a shame, because the boy has literally no talent for public speaking. The boy speaks with his shoulders tense, restricting his breathing so much he can hardly speak. To put it short, his interview is a disaster.

Elodie sprints onto stage, wearing a gold dress and bow. Her interview is somewhat funny, and her snarky responses are clever enough, but that's just about all that can be said. At the end of the day, her interview is just another forgettable one to be tacked onto the list.

Harvey's interview is received similarly. He comes out in an unoriginal gray suit and black tie. His interview is heartwarming, but other than that, he doesn't have very much going for him at all. At one point, Phoenix feeds him a joke that makes a third of the audience laugh. That's about it.

Lena is up next, wearing a velvety red backless dress. A seductive career tribute might be able to pull off the look, but it only looks out of place on the tiny Lena Munger. While her interview isn't completely forgettable (it features a little snippet of conversation about makeup), it just can't compare to some of the others. So far, District 9's tributes aren't showing very well.

Twelve-year-old Florian puts on a varied showing. He manages to keep his act together for the first half of the interview, responding to Phoenix's questions with a number of interesting responses. When the audience leans forward in their chairs, Florian completely freaks out. His face turns red as he begins to shake; before long, tears are falling onto his black dress pants. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut, trying desperately to calm down. By this point, there's nothing he can do to quell his tears.

Secala strides into the light, wearing a pale orange skirt. She definitely looks beautiful, with her hair curled and her face perfected with the help of makeup. She answers Phoenix's questions innocently, almost naïvely. It's an approach that rarely works, but if she wants to ruin her chance of making it past the first stage, then that's her prerogative.

Liose enters smiling, displaying two rows of dazzling white teeth. The boy is a huge hit, spouting line after line of perfect comedy. The audience roars in laughter; several puns about his missing arm add to the comedic effect. The boy is handsome, comical, and overall, memorable. Definitely refreshing after so many underwhelming interview.

Ida struts onto stage in a coat made of some kind of expensive-looking animal fur. She does an okay job of drawing in the audience. Her interview is right in the middle: not good, not bad, just okay. She could die in the bloodbath or pull out a huge upset and make it through the first stage. Time will tell.

Oswald is so thin I can practically count his ribs through his thin white dress shirt. Our teams found a devastating injury on the inside of his mouth: the boy has extreme trouble even talking, let alone craft his words in a way to be remembered by the crowd. Everyone is happy when the three minutes is over.

Demi makes an entrance, wearing a crimson dress that seems to rotate and spiral around her curvy form. She practically spits out her words to Phoenix's questions, but what really stands out his her stare. Demi Claren is one cold girl. Her eyes sweep over the audience, cold and icy, a hate so strong inside of them. The audience falls dead quiet in a matter of seconds. At the end of her interview, she wordlessly spins sharply on her heel and marches out of the light.

Ronan gives the interviews a mediocre conclusion. He enters wearing a tuxedo: an off-white shade, tinted a creamy orange color. Almost nothing really shines; the conversation is decent, the jokes are okay, but the interview doesn't contain anything resoundingly memorable.

As Ronan exits, Phoenix stretches to full height, a dazzling smile seating itself deep on his face. "That's all for tonight, folks. I hope you enjoyed all of these memorable moments with Cordaire, Socket, Momenta, Taure, Milly, Huxley, Kaicee, Caden, Tallie, Oshea, Laurisa, Bolt, Fusae, Coco, Telata, Cache, Prota, Pad, Katya, Datum, Mitzi, Silicon, Juliya, Spurr, Maizie, Sorghum, Aluma, Kenneth, Abilene, Basil, Bryony, Olivo, Teff, Cabot, Desdemona, Othello, Gwenith, Danton, Elodie, Harvey, Lena, Florian, Secala, Liose, Ida, Oswald, Demi, and Ronan! Tune in tomorrow morning: first for unabridged footage of the bloodbath, then for my commentary over every single frame. Have a great night!"


	15. D3-D9: The Bloodbath

**Telata Landers, 13**

**District 3 8th Female**

Caden, Telata, Spurr, Kenneth, Teff, Lena, Ronan: seven of us in total. We hardly look like an alliance: an eighteen-year-old, a sixteen-year-old, and a bunch of terrified kids who find safety in numbers. Unlike the tributes from Districts 5 and 8, which I'm pretty sure were sent to the arena on separate hovercrafts, the Capitol is pairing us together this time.

I fly with Cache, who soundlessly stares downward at his hands while the hovercraft begins moving. I resist the urge to glance out of the far window and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. The odds are stacked against me in almost every way imaginable, not the least of which being my age.

I've always thought I'd try to kill myself if I was reaped. But that train of thought is silly. When your life is truly on the line, you will do literally anything for just another day, just another minute of life.

Anyway, I don't think I'll be able to stop breathing no matter how hard I try. Even if I could, they might pluck another poor girl out of her home to fill my spot. Out of her school, out of her family. Out of her life.

Cache's breaths are uneven. I'd like to talk to him, but I'm sure the cameras would bark at us to keep quiet if I did. Why they're flying us together when we're not allowed to interact, I'm clueless. I'm clueless about a lot of things right now.

I try to relax as much as I can. Because I'm so tightly bound down, I can't do anything more than relax my back a small amount. Then I can sort of rest against the constraints, which hold me in place with their relentless grip.

Part of me might even hope that sleep will come. Snow knows I didn't get nearly enough last night. Drenched in cold sweat, rest seems impossible. I never thought I'd sweat in a place with fancy Capitol air conditioning. Cool air blasts around the space so strongly that the cabin feels near-freezing. The realization comes that I'm shivering more from the fear than from the cold.

The hovercraft ride continues for much longer than it should, and much longer after that. It's possible they're flying us in circles, ensuring we can't guess how far away the arena is. They don't want us guessing its location. While it surely must be nighttime outside, the lights remain as harsh as ever, still causing me to squint to see clearly in the small space.

My body can't tell the time like it usually can. I close my eyes hard, trying to feel the time of day, the location, anything. But I feel nothing, so I don't tire my mind out any more. The only thing to savor here is the blissful silence.

* * *

**Secala Wade, 17**

**District 9 10th Female**

They smell like disinfectant. That's what surprises me most about the catacombs underneath the arena.

I never imagined they'd have a smell, and that's what feels the most jarring. Not the faint hum of the security cameras. Not the whine of the radio playing soft, patriotic music. Not even the fact that the cookie machine only dispenses lemon.

I can't stop sniffing in the disgusting aroma as I change into my uniform: plasticky rain boots, a rough black jacket, and thick black jeans. If I can make an educated guess about one thing, it's that the arena will involve quite a lot of water.

If the forty-eight of us are entering a water arena, it's probably unlikely that any other arena of the first stage will be similar. That's strange, because I imagined the gamemakers to be saving their water arena until it's District 4's turn.

Thinking of it now, that would sway the odds massively in District 4's favor. But the Capitol has never been terribly concerned about making things fair, has it?

"Sixty seconds until launch."

I stuff one last lemon-flavored cookie into my mouth and then head for the tube. I plan to be one of the first tributes locked into my tube, but I freeze in place the moment I reach the narrow partition. Down here, I'm safe. Up there, I'm the last thing from it.

"Forty-five seconds until lauch."

I grab the sides of the entryway and pull myself in. A single, longing glance back at the grey sofa is all the time it takes for me to be sealed in. The voice announces thirty seconds as the arena comes into sight.

Fog. That's the only thing visible at first. Then I notice the water. It stretches out in all directions, gray, drab, and rather murky. A completely flat surface. The rising pedestal breaks up a cluster of small rocks, which tumble into the water and then disappear. Ten meters behind me, there's a lush green shoreline covered with white flowers. The white flowers are absolutely everywhere. They're innumerable: crowding around the shore, floating through the water, woven into the vine cornucopia. The aroma of the white flowers is absolutely stunning, almost overpowering the muddy stench of the water. Through the soup of fog, I make out the forms of the several dozen others, our pedestals forming a tight circle around the horn. Even the horn itself is shrouded with mist.

* * *

**Milly Lockwood, 13**

**District 3 3rd Female**

_60, 59, 58, 57, 56, 55, 54, 53, 52, 51._

The dense fog is more annoying than ominous as I scout the cornucopia field. While my pedestal is almost completely surrounded by grey water, a thin line of exposed mud runs to the cornucopia like a spoke in a wagon wheel. The various supplies float in buoyant plastic packages around the cornucopia.

_50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 42, 41._

Where are Fusae, Katya, and Gwenith? As much as we thought about this, we'd never considered the possibility of reduced visibility. I can clearly see the tributes about five pedestals in either direction. The next three or four tributes are nothing more than faint silhouettes standing against the fog. After them, there's only white mist.

_40, 39, 38, 37, 36, 35, 34, 33, 32, 31._

I glance over my shoulder, letting my eyes rest on the slate-gray surface of the water. Safety. I blink hard. I will not be tempted. I won't allow myself to be tempted. I can't run off without Fusase, Katya, and Gwenith.

_30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24, 23, 22, 21._

The most optimistic standpoint I can take is this: there don't look to be any careers nearby. That would make sense if I was toward the end of the pedestal row. Am I toward the end, or closer to the middle? I literally can't tell. The scary thought sets in that the fog will probably be thicker in other parts of the arena. The cornucopia is always at high ground, where the fog is clearer than normal.

_20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11._

Every second feels like five as my eyes dart back and forth. I might have been composed a few moments ago, but now the pure animal instinct to survive is all I feel. If I can get in there and get out of there with my allies, I'll be safe. That's what I remind myself.

_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1._

I leap off of the metal plate the moment the gong plays its note. My plasticky black boots stick to the muddy pathway and sink downward: sometimes, I have to grab my foreleg and physically rip my appendages free. The ground grows more solid as I near the cornucopia.

The muddy island housing the horn is a rather picturesque place. The ground is covered by clusters of colorful rocks, and, of course, the white flowers. A taller boy rushes past me, accidentally smacking me in the ear with his shoulder. My eyes are trained on the boy's thin form as he races toward the cornucopia. It's less than ten seconds before a dark shadow appears beside him. His loud scream only lasts for a moment. If he makes a noise when he hits the ground, I can't hear it. It's drowned out by the cacophony of so many frantic footsteps.

The mud flies off of my boots as I sprint uphill to the cornucopia. My feet dislodge clusters of the colorful rocks, sending them flying down the slope. Tributes grunt as they slip and land flat on their fronts. A girl with blood dripping from her mouth races past me, only to be intercepted by Socket, who slices open her chest with two heavy chops. Her corpse goes careening down the slope and lands with a loud splash.

By the time I reach the cornucopia, it's swarming with tributes. Those that managed to brave the treacherous slope kneel, scoop up supplies, and sprint wildly back and forth. Two girls stand in a shadowy part of the cornucopia, tossing crates out of the horn's gaping mouth as they pilfer them of their contents. Do I approach them? Do I dare? If they aren't my allies, I could be killed. Reassuringly, they don't look like careers. I saw Maizie further down the slope; though I haven't seen signs of Cordaire, it's safe to assume she isn't here either.

One of the girls lets out a short scream as I approach, then rests her hand on her chest, breathing heavily in and out.

"Milly, you just scared the crap out of me."

"Katya."

"Yep, it's me," Katya confirms, tossing loaves of bread into an empty orange backpack. "Gwenith is here too. No signs of Fusae."

I've lost count of the screams by this point. Numbering them would be impossible.

I scoop up one of the orange backpacks and throw it over my shoulder, then arm myself with two wicked-looking hunting knives. Already, the noise of frantic footsteps has faded from a disturbing cacophony to a faint annoyance. Most of the tributes are splashing through the water by this point.

"Let's get out of here," Gwenith says, and neither of us. Fusae tacks on once we reach the base of the slope: our foursome now complete, it's only a matter of staying as quiet as possible as we paddle away from the horn.

"Not a single career encounter," Fusae says, sighing. "Unbelievable. Not like I'm complaining or anything."

We've been treading through the bog for less than five minutes when the first cannon fires. Seventeen others follow in rapid succession. We freeze in place, standing like soldiers in the chest-high water while the roaring cannon shots roll over the arena like thunder.

_Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!_

It's a long time before we get moving again. Right now, our hope is to find any kind of solid ground. Somewhere where we can relax and take inventory of our supplies. Maybe even curl up and get some sleep. The four of us continue to travel as the sun dips below the horizon.

The moonlight glitters over the white flowers.

* * *

**Paxton Riverthorn, 32**

**Capitol Citizen**

"Good morning, team," the head editor, says. He wears white while the rest of us wear dark blue. Nothing speaks bureaucracy like a leader who wears a different color than everyone else.

"This is it," he continues. "You all did a fantastic job last time, and we need you to put forth an even stronger effort this time."

Our job is sometimes simple and sometimes a serious pain in the ass. We watch over the games as they happen and cut out, edit, change anything that can't be shown on television. Anything from minor signs of rebellious behavior to full-on cannibalism. We've seen it all and then some.

A red light begins to flash on the ceiling. A rotating view of the arena is displayed on a hologram in the center of our circle. Each tribute is marked with a name. Right now, their names stand still. The moment the gong rings, they will change into a mass of moving pinpoints.

We settle into our positions as thirty seconds is announced. A peacekeeper comes through and retracts everything that could distract us: coffee, jewelry, and the like. The only accessory allowed is something to tie back loose hair.

The gong sounds, and the tributes burst forward and backward. A few of them splash into the water and paddle for their lives, shooing away the tangles of white blossoms in their struggle to escape. The mast majority head for the cornucopia, running, crawling, or dragging themselves up the slope.

No outlier thinks they're going to run into the cornucopia. Their minds always change soon enough. It's designed to be irresistible.

The first death occurs as Danton runs into one of the career boys, Sorghum, who is already armed with two knives. A few simple slashes is all it takes for Danton's tracker to go out like a light. Moments later, a girl from District 3, Momenta, is cut down by the ravenous socket. Momenta blanches as the machete connects with her check. She stumbles backward and goes careening down the slope, screaming and groaning as the sharp rocks bang into her skin.

By this point, all four careers are armed. Cordaire makes her first kill, sprinting into the midst of two girls who are fighting over a small orange pack containing dried beef strips. Cordaire goes for Aluma first, mercilessly hacking at her throat and chest with her weapon. The other girl, Juliya, is completely frozen in place, dumbfounded with terror. A single swipe of the hatchet is all it takes to put her out.

Maizie and Sorghum, both armed with spears (Sorghum has tucked his daggers into his shoes) tackle the large, disconnected alliance, who are now carefully making their way down the slope in a vaguely brisk manner. Caden screams as Maizie appears out of nowhere, skewering her weapon through his lower abdomen like a block of cheese. The others, suddenly overtaken by terror, spread out and begin to move more quickly. Lena can't sidestep fast enough before Sorghum's spear is thrust straight through her, protruding from her front in a matter of moments.

The others (Telata, Spurr, Kenneth, Teff, and Ronan) have completely abandoned all forms of coherent strategy as they blindly sprint downhill. Teff is the first to stumble: her bare toe hits a root, and then she's absolutely flying, rolling and crashing downward. Her head splits open like a rotten melon on a sharp rock near ground level, and nearby Ida freezes in terror, mortified while Cordaire takes her out with two heavy chops.

Uphill, near the cornucopia, two boys are tussling over a much larger pack and a case of knives. It's a valuable stock: well-worth risking one's life to obtain. A third boy, Pad, soon joins the fray, but he is vastly outmuscled by the others. Othello knocks Pad squarely in the stomach, winding him and sending him down a deadly descent. Othello eventually wins, momentarily knocking Coco unconscious. Othello flees with his sister Desdemona as Coco curses and Pad's tracker stops detecting a heartbeat.

Desdemona and Othello soon regroup with Silicon and Demi, their other allies. The group chooses their first targets soon afterward: Datum, Mitzi, and Oswald, who have spontaneously agreed not to kill each other as they flee the horn as a group. Desdemona goes for Datum, Silicon goes for Oswald, and Othello and Demi gang up on Mitzi. All three are swiftly killed, and that's that.

About halfway down the slope, the careers and the anti-careers clash. Cordaire, Socket, Maizie, and Sorghum (the careers), are well-armed, but Huxley, Oshea, Bolt, Bryony, and Liose (the anti-careers) are great in number. Huxley punches Socket squarely in the mouth, and he reels, cursing. Huxley takes advantage of his shock and lunges, tackling Socket to the ground. Huxley realizes his fatal mistake too late to be saved. As Socket begins to roll downhill, Huxley is dragged down too. Socket takes a handhold and breaks his fall, but Huxley is not nearly as fortunate.

Things keep going downhill for the anti-careers. Before long, both Oshea and Bryony are gravely injured, with Bolt and Liose growing more exhausted by the second. They abandon the careers and head for safety, and the scattered disoriented careers regroup at the cornucopia to pick off the last few outliers.

The next minute is not very eventful. Sorghum takes out Prota. Socket kills Cache so fast he doesn't even flinch. Abilene and Cabot, both from 9, find themselves facing their deaths at the hands of Cordaire and Socket. The spear-wielding 9s and the knife-wielding 3s regroup once more, and it's at least a minute before they make the bloodbath's final kill.

Basil, a fifteen-year-old boy from District 9, has been spending the last two minutes trying to find a way to escape without being noticed. At last, he takes a desperate leap of faith, dashing between the girls Cordaire and Maizie. The girls' spider reflexes do not fail them, and both their weapons have pierced his flesh before he has time to scream.

The four careers spend the next twenty minutes taunting and torturing the younger boy, who bleeds out a total of twenty-three minutes after the ringing of the gong. The moment his name goes dark, the names of the eighteen dead tributes appear: half of what must go for our twelve survivors to be determined.

* * *

_Momenta Clarence, District 3 2nd Female_

_Huxley Grunge, District 3 3rd Male_

_Caden Yallenson, District 3 4th Male_

_Cache Marksens, District 3 8th Male_

_Prota Carys, District 3 9th Female_

_Pad Nemrose, District 3 9th Male_

_Datum Gemsie, District 3 10th Male_

_Mitzi Tanner, District 3 11th Female_

_Juliya Bethe, District 3 12th Female_

_Aluma Barton, District 9 2nd Female_

_Abilene Carron, District 9 3rd Female_

_Basil Huchra, District 9 3rd Male_

_Teff Stellar, District 9 5th Female_

_Cabot Lampkin, District 9 5th Male_

_Danton Robbins, District 9 7th Male_

_Lena Munger, District 9 9th Female_

_Ida Gleaves, District 9 11th Female_

_Oswald Downs, District 9 11th Male_

**Remaining Tributes (30): Cordaire, Socket, Taure, Milly, Kaicee, Tallie, Oshea, Laurisa, Bolt, Fusae, Coco, Telata, Katya, Silicon, Spurr, Maizie, Sorghum, Kenneth, Bryony, Olivo, Desdemona, Othello, Gwenith, Elodie, Harvey, Florian, Secala, Liose, Demi, Ronan**


	16. D3-D9: Day 2

**Kenneth Spino, 14**

**District 9 2nd Male**

* * *

"You hear that?" Telata whispers.

The group falls quiet. The look on Telata's face is a look of fear, but not in the way you might expect. Not the look of prey trapped under the claws of a predator, but the look of a tiny little mouse quivering in the dark forest, ready to scamper if things get messy.

None of us try to hide it: this group has absolutely no glue holding it together. I'm not even sure if I trust them. Telata, Spurr, Ronan, and I: if a threat comes along, we're to scatter without looking back.

"I hear it," Ronan murmurs, and in just a few moments, I can hear it too. The ripple of water, of course, but continuously, like the level of the ground just dropped somewhere and the entire mass of water is surging to account for the gap.

I notice a little eddy of water forming near Spurr's shoulder. Things are changing in this arena. For worse or for better? Probably for worse.

"We need to keep moving," Telata says, shaking her head. "It was probably nothing anyway."

Even she doesn't sound convinced.

From above, we must not look like much. To be fair, we aren't much. Telata is thirteen and I'm fourteen. Even though Spurr and Ronan are sixteen, none of us has the strength to hold our weight in a fight. Even the combined strength of all four of us probably couldn't compare to that of a single career.

A few minutes of travel take us to a little island. Parts of it literally fall into the water as we trudge onto it: so unstable, we hardly dare to move for fear the entire thing might collapse.

"Are we sure this thing can hold us?" I ask.

"No," says Ronan, laughing a little. "If we stay here long enough, we might fall straight through the mud and suffocate."

That lowers the temperature ten degrees. Blushing, Ronan mutters an apology. I can't stop the mental image: being helplessly tugged down by the mud, killed by gravity and the ground, the things I've coexisted with my entire life. At least Caden, Teff, and Lena went quickly.

"I hear it again," Telata mutters. I take in a big breath and listen carefully, and sure enough, there it is: the burble of falling water.

Spurr sighs. "The island is getting bigger."

And it is. The water level seems to be falling everywhere, exposing small pieces of land. With the silence broken, we begin to breathe and move again. But Spurr remains dead still, eyes and mouth wide open.

"What?"

He struggles to speak.

"Spurr!"

He snaps back to life. "Oh, Stinn. I read about this in a book about District 4. When the water level lowers suddenly, it means the water is being drawn away to create a big wall. A wall of water that destroys everything in its path."

"A tidal wave?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"We're safer here than anywhere else."

"That's not true. We need high ground."

Telata groans, stamping her feet in frustration. Sheer and utter panic has taken over her expression. "The only high ground is near the cornucopia."

The gamemakers. They really know how to get us killed, don't they?

"Then that's where we're heading."

Ronan grabs Spurr's wrist. "Remember Caden and Teff and Lena? We aren't going back to the cornucopia. Not when there are this many tributes. Not when escape is so far away."

"If we're drowned, or crushed to death, or something, I promise you'll have your fair share of regrets. Now let's get moving!"

* * *

**Fusae Soccorso, 16**

**District 3 7th Female**

* * *

Katya sighs as she pushes aside a cluster of white flowers. "I hate this. I hate this so much."

Gwenith sighs. "All of us. Just keep moving. We'll stop to rest at noon."

"It is noon," Katya complains.

I look up at the sun. Though blocked by the thick fog, it's still partly visible, a faint circle of red keeping the arena faintly lit. Just then, the heavy clouds begin to clear. The feel of hot sunshine is shocking, almost alien, after an entire day of nothing but cold mist. None of us want to agree with Katya, but this seems like a good time to stop, so we start searching for land.

In this part of the arena, the white flowers are thicker than normal. Before long, it's difficult to move at all through the net of thin green stems. Milly takes a step but finds herself trapped, her feet entangled. Gwenith pulls out a knife and helps cut her free.

"Land," I say, pointing at the small, flat island up ahead.

"Land," Katya agrees wearily.

The thick cluster of white flowers is actually centered around the island: a nature defense mechanism. If any kind of predator comes along, not only will we see them first, they will have to fight through quite the tangle to reach us.

As soon as all four of us are safe on the island, a faint beeping noise fills the air: the sound of a sponsor parachute. The basket, covered with a red plaid napkin, lands on Milly's lap. She pulls up a corner of the napkin slowly, as though suspecting something dangerous might be inside.

"Apples!" Milly exclaims, pulling one of the bright red fruit out of the basket. She brings it up to her mouth, but Gwenith slaps it away.

"Don't eat that!"

"It's a sponsor gift." Milly crosses her arms. "It's gotta be safe."

Gwenith looks a little embarrassed, like backing down might make her look weak. "I'm not eating that until you eat it."

"Fine." Milly takes a big bite. The group waits in silence, as though we expect her to suddenly fall over and die. She doesn't. We're all a little suspicious still, but our hunger weighs out our suspicion, so each of us has an apple before Milly can take another bite.

I burp and reach for another apple. So much for being careful.

* * *

**Socket Alexial, 17**

**District 3 1st Male**

* * *

"So what's with all these white flowers? They're gonna kill us or something?" Sorghum shakes his head, annoyed.

Maizie reaches down and picks up an entire bouquet of the beautiful blossoms: pale in color, but so rich in depth, almost like the petals are made of silk spun from moonlight. Definitely not natural. Maizie must not find them to be a threat, because the next thing I know she's shoved the bouquet under her nose and taken a huge whiff.

The three of us stare at her, waiting for her to collapse in agony, for her throat to close up, whatever. Nothing happens. In fact, when Maizie lowers the flowers, she has a giant grin on her face.

"She's insane now, isn't she?" Sorghum mutters.

More silence.

"Guys, you gotta smell this," Maizie says.

No one is eager to run to her side, but Maizie shoves the flowers in Cordaire's face, and soon enough, Cordaire is giggling like a little kid on Capitolmas morning.

Sorghum grabs me by the shoulders, which is a little alarming, but the dead serious look in his eyes keeps me from acting up.

"I don't trust those flowers," he mutters. "Stay right here."

He storms up to Maizie and slaps the bouquet out of her hands.

"What was that for?" she cries out. "I thought we were friends."

Sorghum struggles to wrench Cordaire's freshly picked flowers out of her hands, but her strength is impressive. As I run to Sorghum's side to help, I catch a whiff of the flowers, and for just a moment, I forget where I am. A wave of bliss washes over me, making me want to curl up and watch shapes swirl in the fog until I disappear.

"Oh, no you don't," Sorghum grumbles, pulling all three of us in. "Get back to your senses, you three. Those things mess with your mind. We can't have that ruining our pack."

The look of awareness slowly comes back to Maizie's and Cordaire's eyes. Maizie opens her eyes wide in alarm. "You mean…"

"Drugssssssss," I hiss.

"Socket!"

Cordaire fans her face, like an old-fashioned gesture from a black and white movie. She quickly changes the subject. "How come we didn't smell them earlier? They're literally all over."

"Too small to smell from a distance," I suggest, lips set in a firm line. "They can't hurt us unless we get up close. But just to be safe…"

I rush uphill to the cornucopia and find a small piece of cloth. I tear out a strip long enough to wrap around my mouth and nose. "Socket Alexial's anti-aroma apparatus, trademark HG 1000!" I call out. "Step on up, don't be shy. Free of charge!"

* * *

**Harvey Reynolds, 17**

**District 9 8th Male**

* * *

There's a weird kind of comfort to being alone. At least, that's what I thought for most of the first day. I think back to training and remember all the big alliances that formed from the chaos of forty-eight: the four careers, the five anti-careers, the terrified little kids with nothing in common but a desperate and fleeting hunger to see the next sunrise.

I could never trust myself in an alliance, because I think I'd become too comfortable with my allies. I'd consider them my friends too easily, and I don't think I could ever turn my back on them even if my life depended on it.

For hours and hours I wade through the muddy bog, alone with my thoughts. They're my only companions. My only instruments are my body and my knife, having snatched the latter from the bloodbath. I narrowly dodged death at the hands of the anti-careers, the boys named Oshea and Bolt having come at me from two different angles just as I slipped into the water. It was a miracle I survived.

Every breath now is a miracle, and so is every beat of the heart whose only goal is to keep me alive. In an alliance, nobody's heart can beat for someone else. The word "friend" is a flimsy artifice.

On my own, I'm as happy as I ever could be in the final Hunger Games. That all changes when the roaring noise fills my ears.

The entire world starts to spin around me, and my bare toe hits a jagged piece of rock underneath the purpose. I sob in pain and whip my head back and forth, searching for the source of the sound, but it seemingly comes from everywhere, wrapping around me like a horrible blanket of panic.

The wall of water crashes into me before I have time to breathe.

I am thrown into the murky, soupy water, spinning and whirling. My lungs immediately threaten to burst, piling pressure against my mouth. My lungs sting with the pain of asphyxia within seconds. Dark spots dot my vision.

Losing sense of everything but my instincts, I let out a scream, kicking and flailing against the water that cannot be defeated. It holds me prisoner, with no means of escape. The world begins to fade as the last few bubbles stream from my mouth.

_Bubbles._

They are my only indication of direction. I rocket in the direction of the bubbles, gasping so loudly it sounds like I'm screaming as my head breaks the surface. I am immediately thrown back under by a wave taller than me, but this time I have more breath.

I can still see the initial tidal wave on the horizon: several times taller than me, but it's hard to make out its exact size from a distance. Seconds later, I hear the first cannon shot.

Keeping above the surface is like lying under a bench press. I can't raise myself upward or gain the traction to hold the thing better. I can just hold it where it is, spending all of my energy to keep from being thrown down to the gritty mud at the bottom of the water.

Luck alone is why I survived. If my head had hit the bottom of the water, I might have died immediately. If the second wave had come just a second earlier, my lungs would have filled with water when I took my first breath.

Luck. I'm not a career; that's my only chance at getting out of this place.

All at once, the thirst for companionship washes over me. The exhaustion is nothing to the feeling of being lost, alone, helpless. If just one other tribute was here with me, I'd feel so much stronger. For now, I am a discarded twig floating down a river, to be deposited in the sea or worn away until I am only dust.

Gradually, the foaming demon of the water begins to lose its wrath. With simply no more energy to tread water, I muster up the last ounces of willpower I have and swim to the nearest tree, grabbing onto the trunk for dear life. I stay there as three more cannon shots fire. I stay there as the sun sets behind the fog veil and darkness falls over the landscape. I stay there as the national anthem sounds and the faces of the four tributes who died under the tidal wave are projected into the sky. I have survived, but maybe I wish I had been washed away by the current, shattered and torn, then dissolved into nothingness.

* * *

_Tallie Chett, District 3 5th Female_

_Olivo Trunks, District 9 4th Male_

_Florian Stone, District 9 9th Male_

_Secala Wade, District 9 10th Female_

* * *

**Remaining Tributes (26): Cordaire, Socket, Taure, Milly, Kaicee, Oshea, Laurisa, Bolt, Fusae, Coco, Telata, Katya, Silicon, Spurr, Maizie, Sorghum, Kenneth, Bryony, Desdemona, Othello, Gwenith, Elodie, Harvey, Liose, Demi, Ronan**


End file.
